Steal Away from the Permanent Night
by heatqueen
Summary: Elphaba's magic is growing stronger and she can no longer control it. With the whole school against her and Morrible refusing to teach her sorcery, Elphaba must find another way. But as the magic grows, so do the problems. After all, Elphaba is not the only one with an agenda. NO PAIRING.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone! I'm so happy that I finally get to post this fic because it's been a long time coming. This fic is going to be 16 chapters long. Also, it has NO PAIRING. Repeat - NO PAIRING. Please do not request one, as I have already finished the story and have no intention of changing it.**

**I would like to say a huge thank you to cuppasound, who has helped me with various parts of this, particularly with the 'blind' aspect of this fic. Cuppasound, I couldn't have done it without you. Your encouragement kept me going and helped me finish, so I hope you like how it's turned out!**

**This feels like the most effort I've ever put into a fanfiction. That being said, I would appreciate any comments, both positive and negative. In particular, I am looking for feedback on Elphie being blind in this story, as it was quite difficult to write and I would like to know if you guys think I did a good job of it. If I missed anything, or you think I could have done it better, please let me know. Thanks!**

**WARNING: This is an M rated story. The reason for this is character death in the later chapters. I will only say this once, and will not warn you again.**

**And now all of that's out of the way, on with the story! :D**

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_Steal Away from the Permanent Night_

_A 'Wicked' Fanfiction_

_By ~heatqueen_

Chapter 1

I have suffered for many years at the sound of hateful words and cruel whispers from those around me. It has gotten so that they have become a dull and painful soundtrack in the background of my life. Though in different words, they all say the same thing:

Miss Elphaba, your skin is green.

As green as the grass outside; as green as the Emerald City.

I have no way of telling for myself if it's true, so I have little choice but to accept the tales of others. I believe them, because they wouldn't all say it if it was a lie.

My greatest blessing and curse is darkness. The inability of my eyes to receive light means I do not have to catch sight of myself. I have never looked in a mirror; never seen 'the green'. If I try hard enough I can even convince myself it isn't there. However, I can never quite forget its existence: People are forever reminding me with their questions as to whether it's contagious.

'Fabala, hurry and finish eating.'

Nessarose's harsh, impatient voice makes me jump. I prod my plate with my fork, feeling around for what is left. Not much – which is too much for Nessa, who is eager to leave as quickly as possible. Her wheelchair squeaks as she rolls it back and forth. I'm sure if she could walk, she would be a pacer.

I lift my fork to my mouth and savour the last bit of egg. I am told that they are white and yellow, but such concepts mean nothing to me. Nanny once gave me two objects to hold – one smooth, and one rough. She said that colours were like that, but differentiated with sight rather than touch. I do not understand. One does not feel things with one's eyes.

I park my knife and fork together and prepare to be whisked away. Today is the first time that I will live in an unfamiliar location, which is both exciting and nerve wracking. At Shiz I may finally find my freedom. I will no longer have to wait for Nessa or Nanny to bother to read to me because there will be books written in braille and endless lectures to listen to. However, being in an unfamiliar place means I will have to relearn how to get around, which is extremely difficult when one is blind.

Father and Nanny help to transfer Nessa's chair into the carriage. Father says that I am to assist Nessa at Shiz because of her disability. She has been paralysed from the waist down since the day she was born with legs twisted in a way which would not allow her to walk. What help I will be able to offer, I'm not sure. I suppose I could push her around, though it would end up with me using her as a guide to get to places. Whatever the case, if not for my sister being in her wheelchair, I would not be going to Shiz at all, so I don't question Father's decision.

I didn't ask why no one was sent to look after me because I already know. I'm not delicate. I can take care of myself.

The wheels of the carriage start to roll. Nessa and Nanny chat about what university life will be like. Nanny is to accompany us to Shiz, to assist with Nessa's care and act as our guardian. I sit in silence, listening to the vehicle bumping across the dirt road beneath us. The journey takes three hours, but in all that time I do not engage in menial chitchat. I only know when we've arrived because Nessa shuffles and exclaims 'Look, there it is! That's the university! Fabala, I wish you could see it. It's lovely!'

I exit the carriage to a buzz of excited students, hesitating at the sound of startled shrieks on account of my verdigris. I don't move because I am afraid of getting lost. Instead, I place one hand on the side of the carriage and wait for the others to manoeuvre Nessa's chair out of the vehicle.

There is the sound of shuffling and voices calling out instructions, the creak of the carriage door and a couple of loud noises as the vehicle is knocked by the wheelchair, all followed by the clunk of wheels onto the ground and a satisfied 'Finally!' from Nessa.

'She's tragically beautiful,' people whisper to one another, and I know exactly to whom they refer. My sister has garnered such compliments since she was a toddler. No one has told me what it means but it must be a good thing. It is something she has…but I don't. Why? Because I'm green.

The crowd must be large because I hear Father ordering people to move out of the way. I feel for one handle of Nessa's wheelchair and let it guide me forward, feeling slightly odd about doing so. We've been here no more than ten minutes and I'm already the one being dependent on her, and not the other way around.

We enter a building and walk for about five minutes. Then I hear a knock, followed by the click of a door.

'You must be Frexspar,' says a woman's voice. 'And this must be the lovely Nessarose.'

'Good afternoon, Madame Morrible,' Father says, and then there is a silence. I can feel Morrible's eyes on me already.

'I'm the other daughter, Elphaba,' I offer.

'Yes, indeed,' says Morrible. 'Well Nessa, I have received your father's orders. You will reside with me for the duration of your time at Shiz so that I may assist you.'

My heart rises in my chest and I open my mouth to argue.

'Madame, if you please, I thought I was to reside with my sister.'

'My dear child, how can you possibly expect to be of any use to her, what with your condition?'

I'm not sure if she refers to my eyes or my skin.

'But Madame…'

'Your father's orders are final.'

Then, the door slams, and I realise that everyone is on the other side, and I am alone. I turn and walk away, going quite far before remembering that I don't know my way around. Close by, I hear footsteps and the buzz of people greeting each other, firing orders and making general chit-chat. Surely at least one of them has a clue. There must be someone in charge who can direct me, or a student who's already been here a while.

'Excuse me!' I call out. I'm not sure who I am calling; I just hope that anyone within the vicinity will respond. 'Excuse me, can you help me please?'

Someone brushes past me without stopping.

'Excuse me,' I repeat, putting a hand on the person's arm, but they shrug me off. The sound of laughter emerges from somewhere nearby, and I hear words that make my breath hitch:

'Beware of the artichoke, she might be contagious!'

My face heats up. I don't have time for comments I've already heard a hundred times in my life. I lunge forward towards the voice, arms outstretched, and grab whoever it is that I come into contact with. A few people shriek and the girl squirms in my grasp.

'For the love of Oz, just _help_ me instead of standing there making baseless comments! No I am not contagious! On the other hand I am both blind and lost!'

'Huh? W – what are you on about?' the girl stutters. The voice is different. It's the wrong girl. I shove her backwards and release her with an angry growl. All around there are shocked whispers.

'Why are you all just standing there? Did I turn green or something? Oh _wait_ a minute. Look at that, I did!'

'Is she crazy?' someone mutters.

'And you know what the irony is? I don't even get a look-in. I'm green, and everyone can see it except me. So if you would please just help me get to where I need to go…'

'The vegetable garden,' another person snickers.

Before I know it, I feel the familiar rush of adrenaline through my veins, the pumping of my heart and trembling of my hands. I try to squash it down, but it's already too late to stop what is to come next.

_ '__For the love of Oz!'_ I yell, and there is a crash followed by loud screams. This is bad. I need to control my temper before it gets out of hand. I take a couple of deep breaths and try to calm my beating heart. I can't be doing this now. Not here, not with Nessa's reputation at stake.

Only a week ago I promised Nessa that I wouldn't. She took my hand, told me we needed to talk and led me outside into the garden. She pleaded with me not to lose control when we came to Shiz.

'Please,' she begged. 'For my sake.'

And much as I felt doubt creep into the back of my mind, much as I heard a protesting voice in my head screaming that it wasn't something I could help, I agreed.

'I'm – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…' I stutter, but my apology is interrupted by Morrible's loud, booming voice.

'Students of Shiz! Would anyone care to tell me why all your suitcases are scattered around in such a disorderly fashion?'

'The artichoke got steamed!' says the same girl who originally insulted me – the one I'd intended to grab in the first place.

'Fabala you did this?'

The ice-like tone of my father's voice causes me to freeze. He must have returned with Morrible. My throat closes and suddenly I have lost the ability to speak. Instead I give a tiny nod, knowing what is to come next.

'You've been here barely hours and are already behaving like a disgrace! I thought we talked about this, Fabala, your sister's reputation has to be upheld and I will not allow it to be tarnished by the likes of you and your – your oddities! You will nip this in the bud or rest assured I will not hesitate to intervene. Are we clear?'

'Yes, Father,' I mumble.

He pauses.

'Nanny will take you to your room now,' he says. The sound of his footsteps fading away is a relief, and yet it tugs at my chest. I squash down the odd feeling. We were never going to engage in sentimental farewells.

Nanny leads me to my room. It is a double room which I will share with one roommate. She sits me down and deftly unpacks my belongings, passing me a few things which I can put on the desk without too much trouble: a small stack of braille books, a notepad and some stationery. My belongings are sparse and do not take long to put away. Afterwards, Nanny leaves to tend to Nessa, and I am left alone, surrounded by silence.

I click my tongue and listen to the vibrations resounding off the objects around the room. There is a lot of space in here. My large single bed is parked into one corner, next to which is a desk and bookshelf. Opposite the bed is a closet, and to the right is a door to the bathroom.

I wager that the other side is probably identical.

Not having much else to do, I sit on the edge of my bed and think of the stories I have memorised. At home, Father has a phonograph, a new piece of Ozian technology that records and plays back sound. Over the years I managed to gather a small collection of stories and songs to play from it, and also several braille books. I memorised them word for word. They are my way of stealing away from the real world. When I am not distracted it is easy to imagine that I am absolutely anywhere. I don't have to be in Oz where the people are cruel and judgemental. I could be sitting on a bed in a grand palace in a faraway land, where everyone in existence has green skin and no one gives a tick-tock about it.

Naturally, it's only a dream.

A short while later the door bursts open and some people arrive, lugging things inside. Whoever it is that I'm rooming with seems to have a lot of luggage. A high, girlish voice barks out orders, directing her helpers to perform various tasks such as organising her shoe closet by colour, and ensuring that each dress is hung properly.

To my horror, I recognise the voice. It belongs to the same girl who kept firing cheap one-liners about my skin earlier.

Apparently she recognises me too.

_'__You_ are my roommate?' she demands. 'Of all people, I get stuck with the green bean.'

'The green bean has a name. It's Elphaba,' I retort.

'Yes well…whatever. For the record, you can call me Galinda Upland, of the Upper Uplands. And don't forget the last part; it's important.'

I snort. I wonder what she would say if I told her I have a title that surpasses hers. The Thropp family has governed Munchkinland for many generations, passing down the title of Eminent Thropp through the first descending female. At the moment, with both my mother and grandmother dead, there are no females except for myself and Nessarose, who are both too young. However, when I am older, the title will be passed down to me – supposedly. It practically belongs to Nessa already.

I don't bother mentioning any of this to Galinda. Debating social status is beneath me.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The comments about my skin are as apparent in Shiz as they were in Munchkinland. I am sitting in a classroom, next to Nessa, amidst an air of excited anticipation for the very first lesson of the year. The other students have been greeting each other, eager to form friendships, but no one has approached me. That's not unexpected – they never do.

The door opens and the chatter dies down. Footsteps clobber towards the front of the classroom. The person has a very distinct walk – not the usual padded footsteps of most people, but a loud clip clop.

'Everyone, may I have your attention please. My name is Doctor Dillamond, and I am your teacher of Life Sciences.'

The curious whispers in response make my mouth twist with confusion. They are the same sort of whispers that mutter about my skin or the fact that I'm blind. I wonder what it is about Dillamond that has caught the students' attention, but don't dwell on it. I have been looking forward to this class ever since I found out I was coming to Shiz, and intend to remember as much of these lessons as I possibly can, so I turn my attention to the professor's voice and listen.

'This term we are going to be studying Animal rights. Now, as you can see, I am a Goat…'

That explains the whispering. The existence of Animals as part of Oz's civilised population have greatly diminished over the recent years. There has been a lot of debate on whether they can live in harmony with humans, or whether they are the same as other, dumb, non-speaking animals. No wonder the students are shocked. Most Animals have been driven away by the Wizard's new set of laws restricting the Animals' rights.

I feel a wave of excitement coming over me. There is an Animal professor at Shiz, one from whom I can probably learn a lot. I shift in my seat and pay closer attention to his words, filing away every bit of information away in my brain. There is a trick I have taught myself over the years which enables me to remember large volumes of information. I imagine my mind to be a large space in which different facts are stored in different locations. When I need to access something I go to the location in my brain where the information is stored, and find it. This is how I have memorised things my entire life, and it often shocks other people, who wonder how I can remember so much.

I'm sure if they were blind, they would remember things too.

'Humans and Animals were not always so divided. They used to live in harmony many, many years ago. Can anyone tell me what the beginning of the decline of Animal rights was?'

'I can!' I say, raising a hand. 'It was the Great Drought, which the Animals were blamed for. This caused the beginning of the anti-Animal movement.'

'Very good, Miss…?'

'Thropp. Elphaba Thropp.'

'It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Thropp. So good to see young minds engaging with such worldly concepts. So rare, these days.'

'Th – thank you, sir.'

Doctor Dillamond talks more about this history of the anti-Animal movement, and then moves on to the genetic differences between Animals and animals. Apparently the genetics are a grey area – most likely because humans would rather turn a blind eye than prove that Animals and animals really are different.

If that's the case, I wonder if there's a genetic difference between me and everyone else. It would explain why my skin is green. The only thing that's been confirmed by doctors is that the pigmentation problem is what resulted in the blindness, but beyond that, no one knows anything.

The lesson ends to a buzz of intrigue, nervousness and outright displeasure.

'We shouldn't be taught by an Animal,' someone comments.

'Why not? He is as intelligent as any of us, even more so, in fact,' I retort.

'The Animals are corrupting our system,' says the person. 'Better to do away with them. Animals should be seen and not heard.'

'You're wrong!' I snap. 'You just don't like them because they are different! You are raised to conform to society and never question anything! Well allow me to inform you that there are some things which need to be questioned – such as the ethics of the Animal Bans imposed by the Wizard!'

'You would _dare_ to question the Wizard?'

'Well yes, indeed I would, because I do not believe there is any good to come from these bans.'

'Elphaba, watch yourself!' Nessa interrupts.

I freeze, and let out a slow puff of air.

'I do not apologise, but I will let it go for now.'

Then, the students, including Nessa, drift out of the classroom and I am left alone with Doctor Dillamond. I pick up my cane and sling my bag over my shoulder. I know I have let Nessa down again. I shouldn't have lost my temper, but the Animal Bans are wrong. It is a certainty, not a speculation.

'Miss Thropp, may I talk to you?' says Doctor Dillamond.

I nod morosely. I have only been here a day and am already going to be reprimanded.

'I wondered if there was anything I could do to assist you?'

'Excuse me?' I say in surprise.

'I can see you are as different as I am, and I wondered if I might help?'

'Oh. Um…'

I feel warm towards him. He understands as well as I do the meaning of difference in a world where everyone is taught to be the same.

'I don't suppose there are any braille books on the subject of Animal rights?' I ask.

'I can have a look for you. You seem to know a bit about the subject.'

'I have managed to find out a few things, but it's difficult when I can't read the normal way.'

'You certainly haven't let it hinder you. An admirable trait.'

'I cannot allow myself to not make a difference in some way, not when I know for myself the unjust consequences of being different.'

I leave feeling invigorated. There is someone else here who cares, someone who understands and wants to help. I slowly make my way to lunch, following the general direction of the student hum to guide me.

As soon as I arrive, I have to wonder what is up with the students here and their collective chatter on the same subject. It wouldn't surprise me if it was some social thing that I don't understand. Somehow it enables them to catch onto whatever the current hot topic is and immediately begin whispering about it all at the same time. I shake my head. They're going on about some guy named Fiyero, but I'm hungry and would rather eat my lunch.

Unfortunately I cannot entirely block out the chatter. I catch words like 'infamous', 'prince' and 'rich', and shake my head in exasperation. I instantly think of Galinda Upland, who is probably among the masses gushing over this guy.

I've never thought about guys, simply because I do not have a reason to. I have overheard girls giggling and harping on about whether or not they're attractive. All boys are the same to me – cruel and shallow and downright rude in their remarks. It couldn't matter less whether he was tall, or blond, or had freckles, because I cannot see these things. Even if I could see them, it wouldn't make a difference. No boy would dare to approach the girl with green skin: They would have to be blind too, to do such a thing.

It is only as I am halfway through a bowl of soup that it comes to my attention that Galinda Upland is decidedly _not_ among the masses, but at the centre of everyone's attention. She's like a magnet, drawing the crowd apart with her entrance and demanding their focus. They all fall silent in admiration of her pretentious, 'goodly' disposition.

'Good afternoon, everyone!' Galinda greets them in an airy-fairy, irritating, happy-go-lucky tone. 'Isn't it so good to see me? I have to introduce you to the most wonderful man I have ever met, who has only just recently become my boyfriend – the famous Prince Fiyero Tigelaar of the Vinkus! Isn't he just _wonderful?'_

Oh. It's _that_ Fiyero.

I've heard things about him. They may or not be exaggerated, but there must be at least an element of truth to them. If there is anything to the scandalacious talk about the 'playboy prince', he's been expelled from six different universities for failing his schoolwork due to expensive partying and flirting with every stupid, shallow girl in existence. I make a mental note to have a word with Nessa. I can only hope she isn't one of the enamoured ones.

The students are gushing again. They all want him, and I know exactly why: with the Prince Fiyero Tigelaar comes social status and money (and apparently good looks). To all of the girls, especially the wealthy Gillikinese Misses, he is the perfect suitor. They don't consider the truth about his personality, or even acknowledge that he is anything less than perfect.

I will never date, but if I did, Fiyero Tigelaar would be my last choice of suitor.

My soup is getting cold. I've never been much of an eater anyway so I abandon it in favour of the quiet sanctuary of my dorm, where my braille books will steal me away to more interesting scenarios than the dating lives of students.

Plus, Galinda isn't there so it will definitely be silent.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

'I do not know how you do it, Miss Elphaba,' Galinda huffs, stomping around in a fury.

She has been like this for a while: Pacing and muttering about how much she hates doing her homework when there are supposedly more important things. Apparently 'shopping' and 'socialising' are two of the many activities she could be partaking in instead of learning. However, she hasn't spoken directly to me until just now. The action surprises me as Galinda generally makes a point of speaking to me as little as possible.

My fingers pause over a line of one of the books Doctor Dillamond found for me.

'Do what?'

'Get straight A's in everything when you can't even _see_ what you're studying!'

I barely hear her because I am engrossed in a paragraph. After years and years of the same old, having new material to read is blissful. There is nothing to gain from rereading information that I know so well I can recite it in my sleep, so apart from as a distraction, all of my old books are useless. These unfamiliar braille patterns, the new sets of words, the fresh information of Dillamond's texts, are some of the best things about being at Shiz.

'Miss Elphaba!' Galinda screeches. I wish she would shut up. She is interrupting the stream of logic that is slowly realising new concepts and forming theories and opinions. I cannot concentrate with that horrible sound penetrating my thoughts so I grudgingly close my book.

'Yes?'

'You didn't answer my question.'

'I get straight A's the same way anyone else does – by applying myself.'

'But you can't even see the stuff let alone learn it.'

'I don't need to.'

Galinda lets out a strangulated howl, flounces out of the room and slams the door behind her.

For the most part, I learn things by using my memory trick, but there are also other supports in place to assist me. There is a lady called Doctor Cerys Shailleck whose job is to help me with the more practical aspects of university, such as writing up assignments. Every week I go to her office and sit with her for a few hours and work. Her office has a phonograph which she ordered in specially to be of assistance. Sometimes it is easier to record myself rather than trying to write the assignments. All of my tests are taken orally.

Now that I've been here a while I can get around pretty easily by myself. For the first few days I had little choice but to rely on Nanny to come and get me and take me to all of the new places. It might have been easier if I could have relied on another student, but not even Galinda is willing to give me a hand – it seems that my green skin instantly ensures my lonesomeness, not that I am surprised. So instead I use other means to learn how to find the way: counting doors and steps and searching for landmarks, using my memory trick to learn the twists and turns of Crage Hall and the other university buildings, and simply asking for directions the few times I am able to get someone to listen to me, which is almost never.

I can scarcely count on my sister. Her status as the Munchkinland Governor's tragically beautiful, non-green daughter has thrust her onto a high rung of the social ladder, and she is keen to maintain her position. I am positive that, if not for me as her sister, she might even catch the interest of Galinda as a potential friend, though I doubt that Galinda genuinely cares about any of her cronies.

Doctor Dillamond is the only one who will speak to me willingly and not out of obligation. I don't count Cerys because she's only doing her job (If not for it I am certain she would be as scathing as the rest of the university body). I frequently find myself wandering towards the Life Sciences classroom in hope of finding my favourite teacher, who can engage me in a more interesting conversation than the top of the hierarchy's latest hot gossip, or the recurrent and unoriginal remarks about my skin. Through him, I learn things about the world, and with every piece of information I learn, I realise there is a wealth things I don't know. There was a time when the words of fiction were enough to take me to faraway places but now I want nothing more than to break out of my limited little life and go and explore the world.

I will not allow myself to become limited. Not by my disability or my skin; not by anything.

A clock chimes in the distance. It comes from the clock tower in the city. My bedroom window happens to be conveniently located – it faces towards the city, where I can easily hear the clock count off the hours.

Four chimes. Time to go.

I have to cross the campus to get to this class. Go down the stairs of Crage Hall, turn right into the corridor, walk all the way down and out of the front door. Keep my feet on the gravel which is frosted over by the weather, and follow the path until I reach an intersection. Turn left, and continue to follow the gravel until my left hand touches a wall. Then, find the door, enter and go into the second door on the right.

Usually it's no problem.

My journey is interrupted by a rough hand on my shoulder. I stumble and try to shake it off, but then another hand grabs my braid and tugs me backward.

'Get off!' I exclaim. I start to struggle but the rough hands clamp my shoulders, nails digging painfully into my flesh. His hot breaths of twisted glee stream up my mouth and nose, joined by the jeering laughs of others. He shoves me down and my elbows smash into the sharp gravel, which rips the sleeves of my blouse. I yelp as pain shoots up my arms, and my cane falls from my hand. It clatters onto the floor and I grapple to find it, but all I feel is stones.

'Let me go!'

I have to get out of here but I can barely scramble upright before the hands force me onto my back. My body is inundated with kicks and punches coming from all angles, each one instigating another blast of pain as my arms flail in a weak attempt to block them. This is bad. I need to do something but my limbs are growing weak.

'Reckon she bleeds green?' one of the boys sneers.

My blood boils. I can think of a million different insults, each one more scathing than the last, but none of them will make a difference, not when they are the ones in control.

'I reckon we should find out,' says another one, and my insides turn cold as I realise what they are about to do. I thrash in a last ditch attempt to escape, but the hands grab me once more and hold me firmly on the ground.

'Help!' I cry. My eyes are streaming. Why is no one doing anything? Why will no one get these guys off me? Can they not see that I am being hurt?

The hands rip the collar of my blouse, revealing my bare chest. I yelp in humiliation, try to cover myself, but my arms are being locked in place. Then, something cold and sharp slashes the skin and a strangulated scream erupts from my throat.

'No,' I beg, wriggling around wildly.

I can feel the pumping of my heart and the thickening of the air. The knife tears through me again and again, each slice bringing excruciating pain. I hear the perpetrators' jeers and taunts, and feel the cold, spiky gravel on my skin. Adrenaline rushes through my body, my fingertips tingle, the hairs on my neck stand to attention. More blades slash my chest, and streams of hot, sticky blood seep into my clothes, bringing a horrible stench.

A vulgar, blood curdling shriek arises from the depths of my stomach, and the boys are blasted backwards.

I stagger to my feet. The ground trembles beneath. I run, and my body slams into one of my predators. I turn and dart the other way and promptly crash into a wall, and my head is splitting into two, and blood is filling my mouth. I try to find an escape but there isn't one. I run again, and hit another wall. Heart pumping. Ears ringing. The tremor of the ground speeding into a tense vibration.

My back arches and my fists clench. Screams and cries are everywhere. Through them all comes a desperate wail, which I come to realise is the sound of my own voice.

_'__Heeeeeeeeeeelp!'_

And everything becomes still.

My frightened plea ricochets around and fades into silence. Not even the sound of breathing exists; it's as if all the particles in the world have stopped moving. For a few long seconds, I could be in a time freeze. Then, a slow and terrifying rumble makes its way from the ground upward, and I hear a deafening crack.

Suddenly, debris is flying everywhere. People are screaming and running; something hard whacks my bloodied face; the place is in chaos as the debris hits the ground in resounding crashes. I stumble through the rubble, only to find myself hurtling forward as I trip over a piece of debris and land flat on my face. I cry out, pained and winded, and lie limply on the floor.

'Help,' I whimper.

The chaos slowly begins to fade. My chest is throbbing as though I have been pierced by a thousand needles. Numerous scrapes and bruises are etched all over my body, and my blouse is wrecked and drenched with blood, the nasty stench causing my nose to wrinkle. My battered physique lies atop broken bits of concrete and shapes of unidentifiable objects, and I mentally recoil as I realise what I have done.

I should get up but find myself drained of strength, so I remain where I am and listen to my surroundings. People are beginning to pick themselves up; they mutter tensely, filled with questions as to what happened, and if everyone's okay, and who's hurt. They are talking, crying, even screaming. A tear leaks out of my eyelid. I caused those people to cry and scream; I'm the reason why they got hurt.

I suddenly remember the perpetrators and realise they have not come after me. Wherever they are, they have gotten away scot-free. There is no way I'll be able to identify them now.

'I'm sorry,' I choke, not that anyone can hear my weak mutterings. 'I'm so sorry.'

I failed to control myself. I failed to keep my promise to –

_'__Nessa!'_

I bolt upwards, doubling over as pain shoots through my body. Sweet Oz, what if Nessa was here? What if she got hit by the rubble?

I call her name again and again, tears breaking through my eyelids when my pleas are met with silence. My feet wade through the debris, stumbling over as the stuff slides around beneath me.

'Nessa! Ness…'

'Help me,' a voice whimpers. It isn't that of my sister, but it's faint and weak and is coming from down below. I collapse onto my hands and knees. Someone is trapped beneath the rubble. I lift pieces of what feels like brick and move them aside, but there's too much of it – it's _everywhere_ – and I have no idea if my efforts will amount to anything.

I have to keep going, I have to help this person and undo some of the damage I've caused, but I can barely stay upright. Each movement brings a fresh wave of torture to my injured body, but I force myself to press on. Another bit of brick…and another. My arms are exhausted. My chest is burning. Sleep. I need sleep. I pinch myself in an effort to remain conscious.

In the distance, I hear my name…

_Fabala._

…and my body hits the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: We're going to play a game of spot the Frozen reference. Go!**

* * *

Chapter 4

_Fabala._

The nickname originally came from my mother. Even though I barely remember her, I will never forget the sound of her voice. She was a good singer and used to sing me lullabies. It seemed that she was the only one who touched me, but I scarcely recall what that touch feels like. I only remember the faint echo of the melodies she sang to me, but what I remember more is that one day the songs just vanished.

It happened when Nessa was born. Mother had been taking milk flowers in hope that Nessa wouldn't turn out green like me, but the milk flowers caused Nessa to come early with tangled legs. Later I got told by Father that Mother was never coming back, and that it was my fault for being a green aberration.

I am drowning in boiling lava. It torrents through my body, scalding my veins, setting me ablaze with anguish. A terrorised shriek erupts from my throat, launching me out of unconsciousness.

_'__Noooooo!'_

I flail around. Hands hold me down and clamp something cold on my wrists. Those bastards have got me again, are going to hurt me again, and I cannot escape. My arms uselessly fight the restraints. A voice is talking. Wait – it is not the voice of my attackers, but the voice of a woman.

My screams come to an abrupt halt and I allow my limbs to drop.

'Hurts,' I mutter. Tears dribble down my cheeks and are absorbed by my hair.

'That's what you get when you bring down a building.'

The woman's tone is cold and accusing. I find myself lacking in an adequate response. There is nothing I can say to justify anything. I deserve all the hurt I'm feeling for what I did.

'Who…?' I croak.

'A nurse. You're in hospital. The rest of us are all busy tending to the _fifty-seven people_ who got buried underneath what's left of Shiz University's Politics building, because of your magic!'

_Fifty-seven?!_

'I – I'm sorry,' I sputter.

'You are lucky that no one died,' the nurse responds.

Thereafter, I am left alone.

The next time I awaken it is to the sound of Nanny's voice.

'Little frog, always causing a commotion,' she says in an annoying, sing-song tone. The old woman has called me 'little frog' since I was a child. I am told that it is because frogs are green, not that it means anything to me. The most I understand is that frogs are slimy, but I am not slimy, nor an amphibian; however I never could get Nanny to let go of the stupid nickname.

'Blind little frog always did strange things. Bringing down buildings and the like. The world lashes out to her, and she lashes back. As you always have been, little Fabala, always lashing back.'

I hate her cryptic speech but haven't the energy to express my annoyance. The old bat won't listen to me anyway.

'Sometimes it seems that's the only way to survive,' I mutter.

'Little lashes they were, little lashes for a little frog. Alas, one does not remain small, and so it grows, the magic! The chaos and destruction!' And she cackles.

Fifty-seven people. The number swirls in my head.

'Nanny – is Nessa okay?'

'Nessie was far, far away and quite horrified to look out of the window to see her own sister causing such pandemonium.'

I sigh with relief, and dread the irate lecture that is bound to come my way.

The hospital discharges me several days later. I am relieved to finally go, but at the same time, I wonder if I am better off confined. If they lock me up, maybe I won't do bad things.

When I return I am met by Madame Morrible. She grips my shoulder tightly and brisk walks me to her office. My body aches with each fast step, but I don't protest. I have no right.

Morrible's office is a place of doom. It is where my time at Shiz will come to an end. The office is hot and stuffy, and the hard chair beneath me exacerbates my aches and pains. Nessa is sitting next to me. She is sobbing, and I wish she would shut up because it reminds me of how I betrayed her. She mutters broken phrases of 'What did you do, Fabala…how could you…what did you do…?' but doesn't seem to expect me to respond.

'You ought to be expelled,' says Morrible, 'but alas, it is not that simple. Your sister's reputation is at stake and I hold that in very high regard.'

_What does it matter, _I wonder? My not being here might just be better for her. No more magic incidents. I should take myself away, but Morrible's words feel like a lifeline and I can't quite convince myself not to take it. Although it makes me a horrible person for not doing what's best for Nessa, I cannot let go of all the braille books, the lectures, the opportunities, Doctor Dillamond…

He would be so disappointed in me if I left.

'To that end, I will be writing to your father about this,' Morrible continues, and I recoil.

'No!'

'You get no say in the matter. Your actions, your consequences.'

'Morrible's right,' Nessa interjects. 'You really hurt me, Fabala. And those poor people…'

'Fifty-seven casualties!' Morrible booms, as if I don't already know. 'Twelve of them had to go to hospital! You are lucky no one died!'

'But I didn't mean to…' I try.

'But you _did,_ Fabala!' Nessa interrupts.

_'__I was attacked!'_

Silence.

'Whatever you think may have happened to you does not warrant bringing down an entire building,' Morrible responds. 'Your actions are still unconscionable.'

'What's unconscionable is that whoever those guys were are getting away with it,' I snap.

'There is simply nothing we can do,' says Morrible, 'unless you could tell me who they were.'

I am left speechless.

'I thought not.'

'So because I'm blind, I have to face the consequences while the real criminals get away with it,' I spit. The words taste bitter in my mouth.

'They are not the ones bringing down buildings,' says Morrible.

'But I didn't mean to – I couldn't control it, whatever it is…'

'Then learn to control it!'

'But _how?'_ I demand. My eyes are prickling. Morrible takes a moment to respond.

'Leave my office now, please. Both of you. I have important matters to tend to, such as the rebuilding of the Politics department and the letter to your father.'

'But Madame…'

_'__Out! Now!'_

I walk out of the office feeling as though I have been punched in the gut – as if my body wasn't in enough pain already. Slowly I feel my way through Crage Hall. It's harder to move without my cane, but quiet enough to make use of echolocation. Now that I am without my stick, I am more thankful than ever that I was able to teach myself a secondary means of getting about. I first discovered echolocation when I was a child and realised that sound vibrations could be listened to and roughly defined according to the objects they resounded from. It took years of practice, but over time I was able to use the vibrations to gauge distance and even the rough shapes of objects.

As I pass various students, I sense the chill of silence. Not the peaceful silence of being in a quiet room, but the cold silence of fear and exclusion. If they didn't already hate me before, they are now scared of me as well. On top of that, there are whispers, and this time they aren't just about my skin.

'Fifty-seven casualities,' they all seem to be saying. The number won't leave me alone. It's stuck in my head, reminding me of what I did, of what I didn't even realise I did until it was too late.

Someone brushes past me, and suddenly I can feel the hands on me again.

_'__Get off!'_ I cry, and I whirl around and shove them backwards. They stagger into a wall and I turn and sprint down the corridor, not caring where I end up, my injured body protesting the rigorous movements. When I have run a considerable distance I slow down and catch my breath. Only then does reality catch up to me.

What the hell was I thinking? Of course it wasn't my attackers. It was some poor, innocent student, no doubt making their way to class, and I hurt them because I panicked. I exhale a deep breath. Now I have to figure out exactly where I ended up, and get back to my dorm.

* * *

Three days later, I receive a letter from Father:

_I pray to the Unnamed God that by some miracle you will get your act together and cease to be an abomination. Your behaviour is deplorable and I hang my head in shame. If you get expelled from Shiz, rest assured you will not be coming home._

_Father._

As Nanny reads it out to me, I am wrapped in a blanket of dread. It seems that there is no hope. All I can do now is attempt to control my temper; not that it's ever worked before, but this time I have things at stake. Whatever I feel, I'll just have to stop it. Conceal it, don't feel it.

I carry this thought with me as I navigate my way to Literature class. The rubble caused by the destruction of the Politics building has blocked a main pathway, meaning we now have to use alternative routes. These routes are awkward and long-winded, and with no one willing to help me out, I find myself running late.

By the time I arrive, Professor Meddik has already started talking about a famous book by a Fifteenth Century novelist. Normally I would find it fascinating, but nowadays my thoughts have been preoccupied by the recent chaos. I know I have no right to be sitting here after what I did, but with Father's letter in mind, there is no way I can give it up, not since it means I will be relegated to the streets.

I almost want this lecture to last forever. As long as I am sitting here I am safe. There is no risk of unleashing my magic, no way that my attackers can come back for me. I don't have to face the malice of my peers, don't have to worry about the dreadful thing I did in a moment of panic. However, my dreams of eternal sitting are unwarranted and Meddik dismisses us bang on the clock chime.

'Professor Meddik!' says Galinda. 'May I speak to you please? It's _frightfully_ important.'

My mood instantly switches to curiosity. Galinda Upland, who never cared about school work, asking to spend an entire extra one minute longer speaking to a teacher? But I cannot allow myself to linger because a stalling attempt would be far too obvious, so I throw my bag over my shoulder and hurry back to my dorm as quickly as I can.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Well done you clever lot. Frozen reference was 'Conceal it, don't feel it.' :D**

Chapter 5

On Friday afternoon, Madame Morrible holds a sorcery demonstration. One of the lecture theatres is crammed with the majority of the students, barring Nessa and a few others who believe the subject is against their religion.

I will not be able to physically see anything that Morrible does, but it doesn't matter. I am here because there might be information that can help me control the magic. I sit in the corner of the theatre, and note that I am the only person in that row. Unsurprisingly, the rest of the students are happier to overcrowd the other rows rather than risk sitting near me.

Morrible is one of those people with the ability to silence a room upon entrance. The door opens and her heels clang with each step. There is an air of anticipation as she makes her way to the front for the beginning of the demonstration.

'Sorcery,' she states in a commanding tone, 'is a difficult discipline. Not all of you have the disposition for it.'

She pauses, as though it makes the statement more dramatic. I hear a few whispers. Galinda is muttering something to one of her friends.

'I do not teach just any student. I only take the most worthy, the most gifted. Only the extraordinary will be given the opportunity to master it.'

I have to master it, so I have to become extraordinary enough in her eyes.

'I happen to have one particular gift,' says Morrible. 'I can manipulate the weather. Allow me…'

A cold breeze blasts through the room, causing me to shiver. Galinda is still muttering to her friends, who whisper back with annoying giggles. Galinda must have put her hand up because Morrible calls on her.

'Madame, I wondered if I might be considered for your sorcery seminar? I do believe that I have what it takes. I'm sure you remember my Shiz entrance essay on magic wands…'

'Miss Galinda, my personal opinion is that you do not have what it takes. Your grades so far have been average at best. There is no way you have the discipline of mind to persist with such a difficult art.'

'But Madame…'

'My word is final,' Morrible snaps.

'Madame,' I pipe up. 'Unlike Miss Galinda I do have the discipline of mind and almost perfect grades…'

'My oh my, Miss Elphaba,' Morrible interrupts, her tone causing me to wince. 'You expected to be rewarded for your recent behaviour? Need I remind you of the fifty-seven casualties which resulted from your actions?'

'But that's exactly why…'

'What good would sorcery do you anyway, with your – _condition_ – as it were? You couldn't even see what you were doing, let alone master it.'

Her words make my blood run cold. The little bitch.

'Madame…' I try again.

'Enough!'

And that is the end of the matter.

* * *

'She won't teach me. How can I learn if she won't teach me?'

I sit with my hands clasped in front of me. The Life Sciences lesson was dismissed ten minutes ago, but I have nowhere better to be. Before this lecture, I wondered if Doctor Dillamond would turn against me for what I did. Would he stop helping me get hold of braille books? Would he start to treat me like everyone else did?

Of course not. Of course he didn't. He's the only Animal in the whole university. The one person who understands the meaning of different. I should have been able to have faith in him, but I don't believe in faith, only facts, and the fact is I destroyed an entire building.

He doesn't answer my question. He doesn't know either. No one does. My magic has always been unexplained. The nature of it is not like most sorcery. I have never required a wand, nor have I ever been able to call on the magic deliberately. It comes from somewhere deep inside of me, somewhere I can only seem to access when my emotions are stirred.

I must be the only person in the whole of Oz to carry this burden.

'Don't be down on yourself,' says Doctor Dillamond. 'You are a very bright student. I am certain you will find your way.'

I hope he is right. I fear he is wrong. Either way, it's nice that he has faith in me, whether it means anything or not.

I arrive at lunch to find the students whispering. This time it's not about me.

'Did you hear, Galinda and Fiyero had an argument!' someone is telling a group of people. I slow down just enough to catch the next bit: 'Apparently they've been really tense lately. Weird, I thought they were going to be married…'

Married? _Doesn't surprise me,_ I think, repressing a snort. Galinda is just the shallow sort who would think the first perfect prince she ever met would marry her. Not that I don't think someone like Galinda is worthy of marriage – I wouldn't deny her the privilege even though I despise her – but we've barely been at Shiz a few weeks, let alone talking of anyone getting married.

Well, whatever it is the pair of them was spatting about, I hope it isn't severe; else Galinda is bound to bring it back to the dorm. She is a rather loud sort, squealing about every little thing that excites her and making mountains out of molehills when she doesn't get her way. I have been awoken at absurd hours of night when that girl returns from a party, hyper and giggly from alcohol, unable to be any volume other than loud.

The next time I see Galinda, which is that night in our dorm, she is in a grump, as I expected. She prattles around our dorm doing the Unnamed God only knows what, but it doesn't seem to be anything productive. She probably could have used the time to study rather than…rearranging her shoe closet? Her activities are accompanied with huffs and sighs and eventually I find myself too distracted to do anything but ask her what is going on.

'Not that it's any of your business, artichoke, but _Fiyero_ is what's going on,' she snaps. 'He is just being an insufferable boyfriend, always asking after my whereabouts and never leaving me alone.'

The notion is so absurd that I let out a loud cackle.

'You're mad because he loves you,' I respond with mirth. 'Miss Galinda, you have no idea what you have, do you?'

'You are such a _beast,_ Miss Elphaba! Always insulting me in that snarky way of yours, honestly, it's so rude! Get your long, green nose out of my business and you can leave me alone as well as him!'

'Why, Miss Galinda, I would love to not intrude on your business, but it so happens that your business is affecting my study. Perhaps if you would be a little quieter, I will be more willing to leave you alone.'

'I hate you, artichoke,' she retorts, but shuts up nonetheless.

She is only one of many. The word 'hate' has often appeared in the same sentence as 'artichoke'. I remember the first time I found out, age six, that an artichoke was a vegetable. I couldn't help the wave of amusement that overcame me, that people should have such strong feelings towards a vegetable of all things. After all, artichokes are eaten by many and they are received perfectly well. It was only as I grew older that I came to realise that it wasn't the vegetable itself that was causing the hatred, but the association of its colour to my skin. It was the first time I considered racism as a concept. I had heard of the people of the Vinkus having dark skin, but they didn't seem to be a target of hatred, so why was I?

The fact is there is no logic in it. Just like there is no logic in Morrible refusing to teach me sorcery just because I am blind. Well, I'll just have to prove to her that she's wrong. I'll have to convince her that I am a worthy student to take on, and that means coming up with a piece of sorcery impressive enough to catch her attention.

But what can I do? Lose control again? It seems that that's all I know how to do.

I'll have to teach myself, then, just like I taught myself about everything else. There must be braille books on sorcery. Perhaps Cerys and Doctor Dillamond can help me find them. I'll study the spells and incantations, learn the theory, memorise the history – all the things I've done my entire life – and then Morrible will see that I am worth it, and she'll teach me sorcery.

_What good would sorcery do you anyway, with your – condition – as it were?_

The echo of her words fills me with rage. The prejudiced bitch, using my disability as an excuse! I will never accept it. I cannot afford to. I would confront her if my position at Shiz wasn't in jeopardy, but instead I have to settle for trying to impress her. Well, I'll do it. I'll impress her so much that she won't even notice that I'm –

Bingo.

I know exactly what I'm going to do.

My veins are pumping with adrenaline. This is the perfect solution, and I have never felt so giddy in my entire life. Not only will Morrible have no choice but to teach me sorcery, but I will gain something from it as well. I will kill two birds with one stone, and afterwards I will graduate from Shiz at the top of my year, and then, perhaps, I will finally do some good in this world.

I will cure my blindness and rid myself of the green. It's perfect.

And maybe, for once, people will be proud of me. I can almost hear my father's voice praising me. For once it won't be about Nessa and her all-important reputation. No longer will I be the artichoke, or the blind girl, or the girl with the wayward magic. I will be Elphaba Thropp, the girl who enchanted away her own blindness, who then magicked away her own verdigris, and all humans and Animals in Oz will hail me for my magical prowess.

I rise and rush out of my dorm. I have work to do.

As quickly as I am able, I hurry to Doctor Dillamond's classroom. The halls are quiet except for the soles of my shoes on the floor. I am relieved because it means there's no one around, but what if my attackers are hiding around a corner, waiting to pounce on me? I brush the thought aside – of course they won't be up and about at this time of night. No – I am the only student wandering these halls. Everyone else is in bed.

As I fling open the classroom door I hear the scuffing of hooves and a clatter of something onto the floor.

'Oh dear goodness – Miss Elphaba, er – what an unexpected surprise!' says Dillamond.

'Good evening, sir,' I respond.

'I apologise for the commotion, but I wasn't expecting anyone to wander down here so late at night. Can't be too careful, if the wrong people found out…' he trails off.

'Found out about what?'

He pauses.

'I suppose it is okay to tell you, Miss Thropp, but I must insist that you don't tell anyone else. I am currently researching the link in human and Animal genetics. I have almost found a means to prove that link, and if I do, the Animal Bans will have to be entirely reconsidered. But I cannot allow anyone to find out before I have completed my task – if the wrong people knew, they would hunt me down and destroy my research!'

I stand there in shock.

'I won't say a word,' I respond.

'Now…what brings you down here at almost midnight?'

Midnight? I hadn't realised how late it was. More time must have passed than I thought.

'I came to ask you a favour. I need more books. Sorcery books, to be precise.'

'Of course, Miss Thropp. I will be happy to track some down for you.'

'Thank you.'

'You'd best get going,' he says. 'If someone catches you down here with me, you'll get in trouble for this as well.' His voice is fearful.

'Goodnight, Doctor Dillamond,' I tell him, and turn around and leave, my mind spinning.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Galinda has been moodified all week. She still won't speak much to me, although I cannot help but overhear and comment on her grumbles about her boyfriend, especially because they continually interrupt my research.

'Can't mind his own business,' she mutters. 'What's it to him if I need to speak to Professor Meddik…'

She has remained behind at the end of Meddik's class a couple more times since the first one. She uses the same words: 'Professor Meddik, may I speak to you please? It's _frightfully_ important…' Emphasis on the word 'frightfully'. It might be easier if she just confessed to needing extra help with the class, but whenever I call her out on it, she clams up and spouts hatred at me.

Doctor Dillamond found me a grand total of two sorcery books that have been translated into braille. They are meagre and basic, but I pore over them knowing that I have to start somewhere. As time passes I find myself in a quandary. Hours of poring over the two texts has achieved little but to remind me that they are better in the hands of a beginner sorceress with a curiosity towards simple magic tricks. Not only that, but they harp on about wands and incantations, of which I require neither, and mention nothing of magic that is emotionally triggered. It is a matter of days before I have both texts memorised and realise there is nothing more to be learned.

Instead, I turn to biology books, trying to find things out about eyes. There are many different causes for blindness, but not one book mentions a cure for someone who was born blind. There have been mentions of states of temporary blindness, caused by an illness which simply has to be cured for sight to be restored, but I never had sight to begin with.

It crosses my mind that because my blindness was caused by pigmentation, it might be reversed by removing said pigmentation, but if that was the case I would long since be an ordinary colour. It is ironic that I would firstly have to be sighted in order to tell if there's been any change in my skin colour. I will have to find a way around that problem.

A week goes by and I have still not made any progress. What I need just isn't available. Neither Doctor Dillamond nor Cerys have been able to provide me with more than the basic texts for various subjects. I fear that if I ask too much more of them they might become suspicious, and this is something I cannot allow them to know just yet.

The thought of Dillamond finding out fills me with guilt. He is embracing his differences, and I am rejecting mine.

_There must be another way,_ I think one day as I sit through another one of Meddik's Literature classes. There is so much knowledge at the university, but no way to access it. If only I was sighted, I would be able to read the advanced texts – but that would defeat me needing to read them in the first place. What an odd nuisance.

The only other options are to ask Nessa or Nanny to be my reader, both whom I immediately reject. Nessa's religious ideals mean that she despises magic of any form, and so she would try to stop me. As for Nanny, she wouldn't be able to keep her trap shut.

There must be someone else. Someone who I can get to read for me. It would have to be someone I could trust to keep quiet. The matter of the 'who' is going to be a problem because everyone here hates me or –

Fears me.

'Professor Meddik, may I speak to you, please? It's _frightfully_ important,' says Galinda at the end of the class.

Galinda is the perfect candidate. She is close enough in vicinity that I'll be able to make good use of her, and insecure enough for me to get a hold over. The matter of the hold will be a problem – I am not one for partaking in trivial gossip so I do not know any of the secrets that might be used against her. Perhaps it is finally time to open my ears to the sound of shallow dialogue. The thought makes my stomach churn, but I will have to view it as an unfortunate necessity in order to bear it.

When the lecture ends, I pack away my belongings but do not hurry away as I have taken to doing. Instead I follow the sound of voices. As soon as I am out of the door and away from Galinda, I approach a nearby student.

'Excuse me,' I say, and wince when I hear their breath hitch.

'Y – yes,' he stammers, and all I can think of is fifty-seven casualties and a destroyed building. Even though I am blind I can feel his eyes passing judgement on me. That is who I am now, the girl who brought down the entire Politics department, whose magic is out of control, who doesn't deserve to be here, who's green and blind and _different_ from everyone else.

'Do you know why Galinda does that?'

'Does what?'

'Speak to Meddik all the time after class.'

'Um…er…' I can feel them shrinking backwards, away from me, and suddenly feel enraged. Instead of waiting for an answer I grab him by the collar and drag him towards me. I can feel his hot breath coming out in short gasps of fear. My polite façade is lost as a sneer crosses my face. The rest of the students do not help him, but watch from the side-line. They are too afraid of me to interfere.

'Tell me or I will magic you into oblivion,' I hiss.

'She's just doing extra credit! She's too good, she really wants to excel. Please put me down, Miss Elphaba!' the student pleads.

'Only when you tell me what she's really doing!'

'That's it, I swear!'

I sigh and let him go. This guy doesn't know anything. A tense muttering starts up around me so I leave quickly, not wanting to hear it. Something isn't sitting right. I know for a fact that it isn't extra credit because I've been rooming with Galinda for the entire month, and not once have I seen her doing even the ordinary work let alone extra credit.

'Too good,' I spit as I make my way back to my dorm. 'There is not one thing good about her.'

I pause in the doorway of the dorm, wrestling with myself. I have just had an idea, albeit not a particularly good one, but my curiosity has been piqued. Instead of returning to my side of the room I walk over to Galinda's, using my feet to feel around on the floor for any mess that she hasn't cleaned up. I kick aside a few bottles of nail polish, something made of fabric and a hair brush before finally reaching Galinda's vanity. I run my hands over the objects on the vanity, which includes more bottles and tubes, and a few boxes. My fingers grasp one such box and carefully remove the lid. Strings of metal spill onto my hand and I wonder how Galinda gets by with all her jewellery so tangled up. I return the jewellery to the box and replace the lid.

The drawers and cupboards are stuffed to the brim, quite the opposite of my neat, organised shelves. I wouldn't be able to get by with messy storage space because I would lose track of everything. Galinda, on the other hand, seems to have packed in anything that will fit, regardless of what it is and where it actually belongs. There are clothes squashed into corners, probably badly creased by now, which doesn't make sense given how much she cares about her image. These must be the backups. The good stuff will be in her wardrobe. Shoved in with the rejected clothes are a few books, pencils, a ruler and yet more bottles and tubes.

I make my way to her bed and trace the texture of her duvet. It is thick and soft and probably much warmer than my own. The bed is decorated with several pillows of varying sizes. I pick one up and press it against my face. How nice it would be to sleep on something like this every night, rather than the meagre, thin thing on my bed.

But I still haven't found anything to use against her.

The door bursts open, there is a loud squeal and Galinda cries, 'Miss Elphaba! Whatever are you doing on my side of the room? You have no right to be there, none whatsoever!'

She storms over, grabs my shoulders and shoves me away from her bed. She snatches the pillow out of my hand and returns it to its rightful place.

'Rumour had it that you were asking after me. Well my life is none of your business, so stay out of it, artichoke! How dare you go through my belongings like that! I should report you to Morrible!' she seethes.

Oh crap. I have not been careful enough. I should have known that any one of Galinda's army would go straight to her about it. Thinking quickly, I round on her and say, in as threatening a tone as I can manage, 'You will do no such thing.'

She squeaks and steps backwards.

'Y – yes I will!' she responds. 'I will go right now.'

'No you won't. If you do I'll – I'll cut up all your dresses.'

'You wouldn't!' she gasps, rooted to the spot.

The ground begins to tremble.

'Yes I would. I have the scissors right here…' I open my desk drawer and pull them out '…and will rip them to shreds right now if you even set one foot outside of this room!'

'Miss Elphaba, stop this!' she exclaims.

'Promise you won't go to Morrible!'

'I promise, just stop it!'

I lower the scissors. The ground stops shaking.

I have won this time, but I will have to be more careful in the future. I can only hold her off for so long before she really does go to Morrible. All it will take is one word, and I will be out of Shiz in a heartbeat.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The unforgiving midwinter freeze has hit Crage Hall. The rooms and corridors are draughty, compelling its occupants to wander around in the thickest of jumpers and avoid the outdoors as much as possible. There is an air of doom and gloom as they move around in shivering huddles, moaning about how much they miss summer and calling out their craving for a large mug of hot chocolate.

I would have thought that a place as prestigious as Shiz University would be well lit up with fireplaces, but only the single bedrooms and Morrible's suite and office have those.

It is Friday afternoon and most students have returned to their dorms or the cafeteria to rejoicify the beginning of the weekend. I am walking back to my dorm after doing four hours of work in Cerys's office. My lost cane has finally been replaced; it arrived with another warning from my father that one wrong move will see me onto the streets. The new cane slides along the floor in front of me, the sweeping sound relieving to my ears after weeks of getting around without my primary assist.

As I walk, I come across a faint noise from a nearby classroom, and frown, wondering who it is. I shake my head, but just before I am about to leave, a girlish squeal pierces the air and startles me. I stumble, and reach out with my hands to grab onto a wall for support. My fingers grapple around a hook – the metal kind that you hang coats on.

The shriek can belong to no one but Galinda.

Steadying myself, I creep towards the sound source. The classroom door is slightly ajar. I grab the handle and lean in as far as I can without risking being seen.

'Oh _thank you_ so much, Professor Meddik! I knew I could rely on you,' Galinda squeals enthusiastically. I want to curse that Oz-awful voice of hers.

'It is absolutely my pleasure, Miss Galinda. A small favour for one of my favourite students. I suppose I was a tiny bit harsh about that C grade.'

'I promise I will live up to my end of the bargain.'

'I have no doubt that you will. See you tonight in my quarters, at the usual time?'

'Of course,' Galinda responds sweetly.

My fists curl into a ball. I cannot believe what I am hearing. I turn and bolt, knowing I have to get out of here before someone realises I was there. I hurry back to my dorm, breathing heavily, the implications of what I just witnessed reeling in my head. Galinda's grade. Meddik's quarters.

The bitch. The absolute bitch.

As soon as I return I dump my cane and books on my bed and start pacing around the room. It's perfect. _Perfect._ There is no way Galinda would want something like this to get out. One word to Fiyero, and that would be the end for her.

I almost laugh. Almost.

Then, I crash into a chair and topple over.

_Damn chair,_ I think, picking myself up. _Damn Morrible. Damn Galinda._

I despise the lot of them for thinking they are better than me. Well, one day I will prove myself by becoming better than them.

Galinda doesn't return to the dorm that night. I lie awake because I feel sick imagining what she's doing instead of sleeping. There is a part of me, albeit a very small one, that wants to pity her. What in Oz would cause someone to stoop to such a level that more honest means are no longer good enough? However, I cannot allow myself to feel too sorry for her when I am about to use her situation to my advantage, so I squash the pity and try to sleep.

The next morning, Galinda has returned. Of course she behaves like nothing has happened, and doesn't know that I know what she's been doing. I listen as she moves around the room, getting herself ready for the day. It is impossible for me not to think that just a few hours ago she was engaging in something so scandalacious.

Well, there is no time like the present.

I stride over to Galinda's side of the room with my arm stretched out and manage to catch her shoulder. She freezes, and turns. I have no doubt that she is glaring at me.

'I need your help,' I state.

'And why should I help you, artichoke?'

'I need you to be my reader.'

'Well I decline. Someone else will have to be your reader.'

'Miss Galinda, I am afraid you do not understand. _You_ are going to be my reader. You see, there is a task that I am required to accomplish, and I cannot do so without your help.'

'I'm sure Miss Nessarose would be perfectly willing to help you.'

'Silence! I will not have you answering back.'

'What are you going to do about it?'

_'__Let's_ just say, if you don't cooperate, word will reach Fiyero about your little rendezvous with Professor Meddik,' I hiss.

Galinda recoils; her breath becomes shallow and shaky.

'I told you to stay out of my business,' she responds.

'I don't take orders from shallow bimbos.'

'Hey! I'm not…'

'Yes, Miss Galinda, you are.'

The stupid girl falls silent.

'Fine,' she chokes. 'Fine, I'll help you with…whatever it is.'

'Good. Follow me.'

'Wait – right now?'

_'__Yes_ right now!'

'But Miss Elphaba, I have plans with…'

_'__I don't care who you have plans with!_'

She shuts up, thank Oz, and follows me in silence. She moves frustratingly slowly, dragging her feet and occasionally sighing. I focus on the sound of my cane swishing across the carpet in an effort to drown out her irritating huffs. I have scarcely been to the library – all of my braille books are kept on a shelf in Cerys's office. The only times I've had to go are when I've assisted Nessa in getting books out when Nanny has been unavailable.

The library door is heavy and creaks when it is opened. We slip inside, and the heels of my shoes clack across the wooden floor, echoing off the walls and shelves within the large space. Galinda's heels make tiny clicks, and I briefly wonder how high they are this time, before shaking off the thought – I am here for far more important things than the state of Galinda's attire.

Soon I notice that the sound of my shoes and the swish of my cane are the only noises.

'Miss Galinda,' I whisper, 'where in Oz are you?'

She takes a moment to reply.

'This is so bad for my reputation, being seen with the artichoke!'

'Get a move on, you stupid blonde, or your reputation will be far worse off. Remember – Fiyero.'

'Ugh!' she groans, but hurries and catches up with me.

'Now where in Oz is the sorcery section?' I ask.

'Sorcery? How should I know, green bean? I don't take sorcery!'

'Right. Your grades are too rubbish.'

'How dare you…'

'Just find the damn sorcery section and take me there!'

_At least there's a real reason for her, _I think bitterly, remembering how Morrible refused me because of my disability.

It takes fifteen whole minutes to find the right section. Apparently Galinda is terrible with directions. After failing to realise that there is a whole another floor of the library, she finally leads me up some stairs and we start trawling the corridors of shelves to find the right subject.

'Okay we're here,' Galinda says. 'Now what in Oz do you want that you need me so badly for?'

'A desk, for one thing.'

'There's one right here.'

I feel around until my hand brushes a table. I put down my bag, open it and remove some specialist equipment, including a slate and stylus, and some heavy paper. This is how I take notes independently – by using the stylus to make dots in the paper, with the holes in the slate acting as a braille template.

'Bring me as many sorcery books as you can,' I order her.

'What kind?'

'Any kind. Anything at all, just bring it. The answer could be anywhere.'

'The answer to what?'

_'__Did I not tell you to not question me?'_

'It might be easier if you gave me some indication of what you are doing,' Galinda answers, but goes and gets the books like I asked. When she comes back, she dumps a hefty pile onto the desk and slumps into a seat. 'Now what?'

'Now you pick one and read.'

'From the very beginning?'

_'__No,_ from the end, backwards,' I snap. 'Yes, from the beginning.'

'How much of it?'

'All of it.'

'The entire thing?!'

'Miss Galinda, I know you like to think yourself incapable of reading anything beyond the first sentence of a page, but it really isn't that difficult to string a few paragraphs together. You will read all of it. Every. Last. Word.'

* * *

**A/N: Hehehehe, what do you think? Were you expecting that?**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When Galinda shows up at Literature class, late, she slips in silently, and I cannot make out her mood. I feel odd in Meddik's presence. I used to lap up everything he had to say about literature, but now I can only think of his and Galinda's sick bargain. I feel horrified to think that all these students are sitting here innocently, with no idea what's happening behind the scenes. I should say something – and would, if only I didn't have to keep my hold on Galinda.

Her essay gets returned to her with a B. I get an A, of course.

As the lesson commences, I notice the usual whispers of Galinda and her friends. This time they are talking about Galinda's improved grade, a grade which she doesn't deserve, which her friends don't know is a fake. The stupid bimbos actually believe that Galinda is trying to better herself.

'Do you think you'll stand a chance of getting into Morrible's sorcery class?' Miss Shenshen asks.

'I've got a ways to go. The artichoke gets A's and even she wasn't let in, remember?'

'Yeah but she's blind. And dangerous.'

'True. Which is why, when I start getting A's, I'll actually get in,' Galinda says firmly.

My palms are tingling. The injustice is not fair! I have worked so hard and that dumb blonde might get in on her dishonesty! The notion makes me hot and confined. I can feel the adrenaline creeping up on me. The tingling increases, something jumps from my finger, and then there is a gasp from Galinda's seat.

_'__Ow!'_ Galinda whines, and Meddik stops talking.

'Excuse me, what seems to be the problem?'

'Just – just a pain,' Galinda stammers.

'Do you need to be excused to see the nurse?'

'Yes please – it was awfully sudden.'

Of course she does. It means getting out of class which, at any rate, might be more bearable without her in it. She gets up and leaves, and the lecture resumes, and I spend the rest of it feeling jumpy and agitated.

My palms don't stop tingling until much, much later.

* * *

There is a tense buzz in the cafeteria, far different from its usual light atmosphere. It is a sign that something important must have happened, if this bunch were able to be distracted from the usual trivialities of their lives.

I get my lunch and make my way around the room, looking for Nessa.

'Over here, Fabala,' she calls out, and I slowly weave through the many tables and students to sit with her.

We have been on distant terms since I brought down the politics building. Although we have continued to take our meals together, they are frequently filled with awkward silences, broken occasionally by Nanny's crazy nattering. I poke at my food, wondering what to say. Introducing any normal topic of conversation would be like an expectation of forgiveness from Nessa, which I know I don't deserve.

Occasionally she will say something, though her sentences are short and clipped. I don't blame her. I would be furious if I was a future governor with a sister creating chaos.

'They doubt me,' Nessa says, and I don't need her to clarify in order to know who the 'they' refers to. Some of the Munchkins have not been kind to her since the Politics building came down.

Her words make me wince.

'I apologise.'

My apology is feeble. It doesn't change anything. I have already made it several times over, but such fickle words as 'I'm sorry' won't placate the entire student body, not when they have already made up their minds about me. The truth is, they will hate me no matter what I say – and by extension, they will give Nessa a rough time as well.

'You have to get it under control.'

She has said this many times.

'There doesn't seem to be a way. Not when Morrible won't let me take her seminar.'

'Perhaps that is for the better,' Nessa replies. 'Sorcery is evil. Even if it would help you, dappling with such subjects is against the Unnamed God. No – you are better off finding some other way. By disallowing you this, the Unnamed God is trying to save you.'

'If your supposed Unnamed God wanted to rescue me, he would not have allowed me to be born green. Or blind, for that matter.'

Nessa sighs.

'I know you get troubles for these things, but the Unnamed God would save you if you chose to let him in. There is no need to be so sinful just because you have oddities.'

'I am sinful by being born. Besides, I don't have a soul, so I cannot be taken in by any God, existent or not.'

'Can you not just cage the magic?'

I think about her question. Yesterday I spent three hours listening to Galinda recite long passages of sorcery textbooks, but I do not recall the subject coming up. At some point I will have to take a trip through my memory and sort through everything I learned, but for now I merely shrug.

'I do not know if such a thing is possible,' I respond, but inside I feel hopeful. It would save me many problems if it was.

_Please, please let it be possible._

We continue to eat in silence. The tension in the café seems to be growing. The hushed whispers are turning into animated debate and I can hear some malice creeping in. Whatever it is, it really has gotten these students stirred.

'What are they talking about?' I ask my sister.

She pauses before responding.

'There has been talk of new Animal laws.'

My ears prick up.

'What kind of laws?'

'Apparently the Wizard of Oz wants to ban the Animals from teaching in schools.'

_'__What?!'_

_Doctor Dillamond!_ I immediately push my chair back and stand up. Without bothering to bid my sister good bye, I manoeuvre my way out of the cafeteria and hurry through the university to the Life Sciences department. I scarcely pay attention to the students I knock into on the way – I just know that I have to speak to him as fast as possible.

'Doctor Dillamond!' I exclaim, bursting into his classroom.

'Miss Elphaba!' he responds.

'They can't take you away, they just can't!'

Doctor Dillamond sighs heavily and I feel my heart sink. Now that my panic has ebbed, reality begins to catch up to me. No matter what either of us say, there may be nothing we can do about it. If the new laws get passed, Dillamond will be removed and nobody will get any say in the matter.

'I am hoping that there might be a chance,' he says slowly, and my heart speeds up.

'What chance?'

'You see, I am rather close to proving the link between humans and Animals. If I could just get this done before the new laws were passed…'

'You would be able to stay!' I exclaim excitedly. 'Doctor Dillamond, that's wonderful! That way they'll _have_ to let you stay!'

'Yes well…one can only hope,' he says.

I don't pray, but if I did, I would pray that he proves the link in time. If he leaves, the only people I will have left are Cerys and my sister, and only out of obligation. There will be no one left who interacts with me completely willingly. I cannot fathom which option is worse – staying here in total isolation with a student body that hates me, or leaving and surrendering myself to the streets and shunned by my own family.

It seems like I am destined for solitude no matter what happens.

But perhaps not. After all, there is one option left – to do what Nessa said and cage the magic somehow. I would have to give up the idea of curing my blindness, but at least the magic wouldn't be wayward.

That night I drag Galinda back down to the library. She whines in protest but we both know that she doesn't really have any choice.

'This is so unfair,' she grumbles. 'You're taking me away from my obligations.'

'Which ones, your social ones? I do not believe them to be of any importance whatsoever.'

'But they _are_ important! If I skip too many of them people might believe I'm actually studying!'

'Is that such a bad thing?' I mutter. 'If you study you might get into Morrible's sorcery seminar on your own merit and won't have to resort to your little affair with Professor Meddik!'

'You – you – artichoke!' she exclaims.

_Is that really the best she can come up with? _I wonder, as I sit down at a desk and wait for Galinda to get the sorcery books. She sits down with a discontented sigh, and I feel compelled to say something.

'I would have thought you'd take to reading about all this sorcery stuff, given how badly you want to get into the seminar, but I guess your view on the subject must be as idealistic as your notion of marrying Fiyero.'

'It is _not_ idealistic!'

'Your views on sorcery, or Fiyero?'

'How dare you say that! And anyway, I rather think that your views must also be idealistic if you think that swotting up will change Morrible's mind about you, or did you forget the part where you brought down an entire building?'

_'__It was an accident!' _I suddenly realise that my voice has risen and is echoing around the otherwise silent area. Taking a deep breath, I say 'And besides, I have decided that that is no longer my plan. In fact, I wish quite the opposite.'

'What in Oz are you talking about?'

'I wish to cage my magic.'

She pauses. 'At least you'll no longer be dangerous.'

It must be the first time we've agreed on anything.

We start to scour the books for information on caging magic. There have been several instances recorded in Ozian history, where someone chose to cage their magical ability for whatever reason. The first recorded instance was a Fourteenth Century man who had some severe disabilities, including a neurological disorder which made him unstable. His condition made his magic progressively more sporadic, and the only option to ensure his (and everyone else's) safety was to cage his powers.

The book describes the process by which the magic is caged. It takes another person to perform a binding spell on the person who intends to cage their powers. The spell is irreversible – once it is cast, there is no going back, and the magic is locked away forever. I wonder if I can convince Morrible to do it. Galinda might be magical, but her ability is so low that I doubt she could levitate a teacup let alone perform such a difficult spell as this one.

'Miss Elphaba,' Galinda says hesitantly.

'Yes, Miss Galinda?'

'I – I need to go. I'm sorry, but I…'

_'__No!_ You will stay here.'

'But I…'

'Do I have to remind you about Fiyero?'

'No, I – I know. But please, just this once. I can't not go, I…'

She suddenly seems fearful, a fact that causes me to pause. Although she is afraid of me, I can't help but wonder at her sudden need to defy me in spite of the consequences. I want to pass it off as an act, a mere means of getting away from me, but somehow I can't help thinking that there is more to this than it seems.

'Please,' she almost whispers. 'Please, I'm begging you.'

'Fine,' I relent. 'Go. I suppose I can make do with what I've got, for now.'

She hurries off as fast as she can. Truth be told, all I need to do now is go to Morrible and ask her to cage my magic, and after that, all of this will be over.


	9. Chapter 9 Dedicated to Willemijn Verkaik

**A/N: I am posting this chapter earlier than planned. It is dedicated to Willemijn Verkaik, who is sadly leaving the London production of _Wicked_ due to needing surgery on a back injury. Get well soon, Willemijn, and I hope to see you back in the West End someday. You'll always be a very beloved Elphaba.**

* * *

Chapter 9

'Miss Elphaba,' says Morrible's voice. She is surprised to see me, but ushers me into her office and closes the door rather loudly. 'I am afraid I do not have a lot of time. I am involved in a lot of administration relating to the politics building incident.'

I know she is doing this to goad me, and she is succeeding – the usual awful feeling that comes with knowing that I hurt all these people wells up against my will.

_Never again, _I remind myself. _After today it will never happen again._

'Now what is it that I may help you with? Not another destroyed department, I hope.'

'I wish to cage my magic.'

Morrible sits at her desk, organising a stack of papers. For several minutes I wait in silence, wondering what she's thinking. After a while I fear that she has forgotten my presence entirely and am about to say something when she suddenly slams the papers onto the desk and speaks.

'Perhaps that is for the best,' she says. 'Certainly it would save _me_ a lot of trouble. No wayward pupils acting as a health and safety hazard. Very well, then.'

She rises from her seat, opens a cupboard and removes something from it – two somethings, and one of them is a book. She lays the book on her desk and flicks through the pages.

'This is a complex spell,' she says, 'but luckily for you I am an accomplished sorceress with refined skills. I will cast the spell now.'

The other object must be her wand. She begins to mutter in a strange language and I am overcome with the feeling of a warm aura surrounding my body. As time passes it grows stronger and hotter until it's almost burning my skin. I screw up my eyes tight, grimacing as it starts to hurt, and then it starts burning my insides and I buckle over in pain.

I can feel something changing – pressure is building up inside, constricting me, trying to squeeze the magic out, and the magic is pushing back. Morrible's chanting gets louder. Her voice becomes more strained and the words come out fast and furious, as though the speed of them will force the magic to desist and let the spell take hold.

All I can feel is pain, and a loud scream erupts from my throat. Let it end, please let it end, it hurts too much. The two magics fight in a rigorous tug of war. My palms are on fire and skin is covered in goosebumps. I can't take it anymore, I need it to stop.

My hands thrust forward against my will, Morrible yelps and there is a loud crash.

'Sweet Oz!' Morrible exclaims.

The pain subsides and I lower my hands. The fire in my palms dims into a painful itch and my breath comes out heavy. I feel weak and drained and want to sleep.

'Is it over?' I say.

'I do not believe it,' Morrible responds.

'What?'

'No one should ever be able to do that.'

'Do what?'

'Silence!' she booms.

I don't understand. What in Oz happened? I am supposed to be magic-less by now, and yet I can still feel it rushing through my veins. I brush my palms on my skirt in an attempt to lessen the itching. Why didn't it work?

'I cannot fathom how, but your magic is completely uncontainable,' says Morrible in a low tone. 'I am unable to bind it.'

'But Madame, you must be able to…'

'I cannot!'

'Then teach me to control it, let me take your seminar…'

'Get out!' she almost screams.

'But why…'

_'__Get out!'_

'This is ridiculous! I need your help! Why can't you see that?'

'Do not question me, you foolish girl! You will leave my office right this instant!'

I flee, feeling lost and confused. The spell didn't work. My magic isn't caged. It is as wayward as ever, and resistant to any attempts to tame it. Why? Why is my magic different? Why am I different? Why couldn't I be born the same as everyone else, sighted and normal coloured and magic-less?

Tears prick the corners of my eyes. It's not fair. It's too much for any one person to handle.

I find myself headed for the ice cold outdoors. I need to get away from this place; it's doing my head in. I rush away from the university grounds and into the surrounding forest, focusing on the sound of dead leaves crunching beneath my feet. The sound is comforting and ordinary. When I am away from Shiz, in the wilderness, I can almost believe that I am normal. There is no one here to provoke me, to remind me that I'm different, to set off my magic. There is no reminder of my misdeeds, of my failure to my sister, of the hurt that I have brought to so many people.

Alone with my thoughts, and deep in the depths of the forest, I could almost be anywhere. I am no longer in Oz, but a faraway place where the trees are your friends. The trees can talk, and their leaves are stroked by the gentle breeze whose loving arms wrap around me and tell me that everything is okay. The sweet whispers of the rustling leaves provide a calm and relaxing backdrop for my musings. I can almost feel the magic beginning to cooperate, just a little bit: It is still there but watches warily from the inside, withheld by my state of serenity.

At some point I stop and lean against a tree trunk, and breathe in the fresh air. I could stay here forever, if not for probably dying of hypothermia.

I don't know how long I stay there for, just that I eventually realise that quite some time has passed. I'll have to find my way back somehow. Tentatively, with my cane to guide me, I head in what I believe to be the opposite direction to which I came. All I have to do is go straight. I didn't make any turns before.

However, as time goes by and I still have not returned to Shiz, I realise that I have miscalculated my route. Whichever straight line I took was not the correct one, and now I am probably further into the forest than I am out of it. I halt in my tracks, suddenly aware that I have no idea where I am, and my heart speeds up rapidly. What in Oz am I to do now?

I ponder the idea of turning around and walking back, but I'll never be able to find the same tree I was at before. My body is tired and the air is getting colder – it must be approaching night time for it to be this cold – and I am starting to shiver. Despite having to share a dorm with Galinda I yearn to be back in my room, under my blanket, with even the tiniest shred of warmth. I wrap my arms around my body and drop onto my knees, paralysed with fear.

I'll never make it back now, and no one will come looking for me. There is no hope. The cold will kill me and no one will bother to look for my body, let alone find it.

Whatever hold I previously had on my magic has vanished. It seeps back into my veins and seizes my limbs. It rears its ugly head, unleashes itself from my palms and rumbles through the ground, causing an enormous tremor. The ground fissures and I collapse onto my side, weeping. The wind is picking up speed and I can hear the trees swaying dangerously. All around me, in every direction, branches snap and roots break and things come chucking down from above. Thunder cracks through the sky, bringing with it a downpour of rain which soaks me to my skin and freezes me further. A loose branch knocks my head and I whimper and curl up into a tight, trembling ball.

This is it. This is the end for me, the poor, lost blind girl whose own magic destroyed her. The cold invades my body, draining it of warmth, sucking all the strength I have left. As my hope fades, my limbs relax and accept being drenched by the torrent of rain. I can feel the vibration of the ground under my weight, and hear the thunder cackling at my feeble presence. I am no more than a pathetic little thing whose hope and drive have been stripped away by her own weaknesses.

My fingers are numb. My eyes are heavy.

It's oh, so quiet.

There is only the sound of birdsong, and a light breeze dancing across my face. Galinda must have left the window open, the foolish girl. No wonder I am freezing. It cannot be beyond six clock chimes – I feel heavy and tired and could probably do with another couple of hours' rest.

My back is aching, and I notice that I am lying on a hard surface. This doesn't feel like my mattress. My fingers trace the surface – it is sticky and clumps beneath my fingers. It isn't fabric, but mud, and suddenly I remember where I am and what happened.

Why in Oz am I not dead?

I feel compelled not to move. The slightest wriggle makes pain shoot through my head. My throat is sore and my nose is streaming with mucus. The fabric of my clothes is damp and sticks to my body, and my shoes are waterlogged.

Well, I survived the night, so what am I supposed to do now? I should get up and walk, and try to find my way out of this forest, but my body protests the idea of even sitting up let alone standing up. There is no one out here except for maybe a few animals and a lot of trees. I will simply have to wait.

Time passes and I do not hear any clock chimes, so I must be quite far away from wherever the city is. At some point I become aware that I do not have my cane. It must be nearby, but when I reach out to find it, I grasp nothing except grass and mud. Oh well. It's not like I can go anywhere in this state anyway.

_Fabala…_

I must be really, really sick if I am hearing things. It is rather like when I brought down the politics building, a faint echo carried by the wind. It comes to me in my mother's voice, or rather what I remember of it, and I find myself longing for her to be alive, to come and take care of me when nobody else will…

'Fabala!'

I am jolted out of my thoughts. I am not hearing things. It isn't my mother's voice, but Nessa's, though I have no idea how in Oz she managed to find me. This is impossible. I should be dead, not rescued.

'She's there!' Nessa exclaims, and I wonder who else is with her. 'Sweet Oz, Fabala, what happened to you?'

'Ness…'

My voice is hoarse and it hurts to speak. I can only offer the tiniest shake of the head, and even that causes me to grimace in pain. A pair of arms lifts me off the ground and carries me. I want to argue that I am fine and can walk by myself, but am too weak to protest. A hand touches my forehead.

'She's burning up.'

The second voice is male.

'…yero,' I choke.

'And Madame Morrible, she did a tracking spell,' Nessa explains. 'Come on, let's go, we have to get her to hospital!'

Thereafter, all I am aware of is something warm and soft covering me. I lean my head into Fiyero's chest and sense the rhythm of his body moving. Behind him, Nessa is having a heated discussion with Morrible, but I am too tired to make out words. Their voices blur into a hum, along with the sound of footsteps, rolling wheels and more birdsong.

As my eyes close for the second time, I wonder what Fiyero is doing here.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I've never been all that happy with this chapter, even after rewriting it. I hope you guys like it better than I did. :)**

* * *

Chapter 10

When I wake up I have been placed in a bed and am covered by warm blankets. I still feel heavy and weak, but at least I am no longer cold and damp. As soon as I open my eyes I hear a gasp from next to me.

'Thank Oz!' breathes Nessa.

'Nessa,' I manage to get out before pain rips through my throat and I am forced to stop talking. My throat is dry and parched and I swallow with a grimace. 'How…?'

'You didn't show up at breakfast so I asked Galinda, and she said she hadn't seen you since the afternoon before. I was worried that something had happened, so Fiyero and I went to find Madame Morrible. She used a tracking spell to find you.'

'But why…?'

I mean to ask, 'why Fiyero?' but my throat hurts too much. I shake my head and sigh; I will have to find out later, whenever I can speak again.

'I don't know what in Oz you were doing, Fabala, you could have _died!'_ Nessa exclaims. 'You know better than to wander off like that, especially when you don't know where you're going!'

Her voice is tearful and I feel so, so guilty because I _do_ know better and once again I have failed my sister.

'I take this to mean you have not bound your magic?' she asks.

I shake my head, remembering how the binding spell failed.

'Then I will have to brace myself for the consequences.' She sounds bitter. I can understand that – maybe she thinks I would have been better off dead. It would certainly save her the trouble of having me for a sister.

I spend a week in hospital, fighting illness. The first three days are the worst: I flash between boiling hot and freezing cold, never finding a comfortable balance. I can scarcely eat or drink because it hurts my throat to swallow. My body is wracked with hard spluttering and sneezing and continuous shivering. I flip between being wide awake and fast asleep and trapped in lucid dreams in which I'm unable to move, only stare at my surroundings and watch as strange hallucinations form before my eyes.

On the fourth day, my fever breaks and everything finally begins to settle. My body is still aching and I am still congested, but for the first time in what feels like ages, I am hungry. Slowly and tentatively I raise myself onto my elbows, and into a sitting position.

'Good morning, Miss Elphaba.'

'Fiyero? What are you doing here?'

'Visiting you,' he says quietly.

He takes my hand and presses something into it, a cold glass. I raise it to my lips and drink. The trickle of liquid is soothing to my throat and I gulp it back as fast as I can.

'Thanks.'

There is a long silence.

'I broke up with Galinda.'

I wonder why he is telling me this. Their relationship is none of my business. There is no need to make an announcement about it. However, he seems prepared to keep talking about it, so I hold my tongue and let him continue.

'She was…moodified.'

I already know. I was the one who had to put up with her complaining.

'She became distant all of a sudden and I couldn't figure out why. And mopey – like, _really_ mopey. As if all her bubbles had disappeared. But when I asked her what was wrong she snapped and told me to mind my own business. Said I was interfering. But I wasn't – honestly! – I just wanted to help with whatever it was. Anyway, I finally decided that I couldn't take it anymore with the secrecy. I told her that in order to be in a relationship with her, I needed her to be able to be honest with me.'

'That's deep, coming from the partying prince,' I quip.

I actually feel a little sorry for him. He has no idea what she was hiding. I almost tell him about Meddik right then, but decide to hold back. I'm not Fiyero's friend and the information is too valuable to easily let go of.

'Why are you here?' I ask. 'Not because you care about my health, I assume.'

'No. Well – I mean, not that I don't care, but…'

'Don't bother to cover it up. You hate me like everyone else does. I brought down a building. I get it.'

He sighs. 'Well, with Galinda being your roommate, I wondered…'

'You wondered if I had any juice to spill about your ex-girlfriend,' I interrupt. 'Sorry, princey, but I do not follow the renowned social life of Galinda Upland. You would be better off asking one of her friends.'

'But surely you must know something…?'

'Listen, _Prince_ Fiyero. What may or may not be going on with Miss Galinda is none of my business, and is certainly not mine to tell. If you want to know why she's been so moodified, you are just going to have to ask her yourself. To be quite frank, I'm amazed that you even care. _You're_ the one who broke up with _her. _Why the curiosity?'

'Because I think something might be going on that we don't know about. I'm worried about her.'

'Oh I get it. You ran, Fiyero. You ran because you didn't want the responsibility of having to care for someone during the bad times.'

He stalls, and I know I have hit the mark. I am tiring of this meaningless conversation. I cough, and roll onto my side, facing away from him.

'I am feeling rather tired,' I state. It is a lie – for the first time in a week, I am full of energy – but it will get rid of him and his baseless talk about his ill-fated relationship. He gets up and leaves, not bothering to bid me goodbye. Whatever. I don't care.

After he leaves, I lie there and ponder what he said. Could something be wrong with Galinda? I consider her recent mood swings; the unusually quiet nights, uninterrupted by her drunken giggles; the general snippiness whenever she enters the room, in the place of her bright, annoying bubbles. For some reason, I cannot shake the thought that Fiyero might be right. But it's only Galinda. She's not my problem. Her choices are her own to make, and she can deal with them herself.

And yet, I can't help but continue to wonder…


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Oh my god, I loved all your reviews for the last chapter! It made my day reading all your guesses as to what's going on with Galinda. Some of your ideas were amazing. It was interesting to see what stuff you came up with that I hadn't thought of.**

**Oh by the way, everyone should go and listen to the audio clips of Willemijns' last performance. They were so, so emotional and incredible. Just, EPIC.**

**I am so, so scared about posting this chapter. Here goes.**

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Chapter 11

The mattress of my bed is blissful compared to the thin thing passing as a hospital mattress. It is soft and familiar and my body sinks into it. I am relieved to be back – being bedbound was driving me crazy and hindering my research. Now I'm behind on both schoolwork and magic.

Oddly, the magic seems to have tempered a bit since my illness. It is still there – if I concentrate hard, I can feel it – but it seems content just to sit for the time being. I wonder if it's because I used so much of it that I am almost completely depleted. How nice would it be, to remain depleted forever, but I don't hold out any hope.

The door opens, and closes.

'Oh…you're back,' says Galinda. Her voice sounds hollow, and I remember that she and Fiyero have broken up. I wonder if I ought to spare her a bit of kindness, but I cannot help my sharp tongue as I am filled with distaste.

'Didn't think I was going to stay away forever, did you?'

'Leave me alone.'

She slinks into the bathroom quietly and locks the door behind her. I wonder if she's still upset about the breakup, but really she should have seen it coming. It's not as if she was in love with Fiyero, the way she kept moaning about him. No wonder guys keep saying the never understand girls – one minute they blow a guy off, and the next minute they're crying because the guy doesn't love them. How foolish.

A while later, Galinda exits the bathroom.

'I heard Fiyero visited you,' she says. 'Fancy that, Fiyero talking to the artichoke.'

_Why in Oz is she bothering to talk to me now? _I wonder if she is about to stoop to new levels of superficiality. It wouldn't be unlike her to put on a jealous act and spurt accusations about how I must be trying to steal her ex – as if Fiyero would ever date me. I sigh in dread of the imminent rage that is about to come my way, only to end up confused when it doesn't happen:

'Truth is, I made a mess of things. No one could possibly understand.'

There is not a hint of rage or accusation in her voice, only the slightest hint of regret. I cannot fathom this change. It's as if I'm talking to anyone other than Galinda. My mind blank for a response, I sit in silence, all too aware of being overcome by profoundness. It is the first time I have felt much of anything about Galinda – the first time I have felt much about anyone at all.

Is it possible that there is a genuine human being inside of that girl?

'I know you hate me, but just don't right now. I – I couldn't take it. It's too much. There's too much…'

She starts crying. The intensity vanishes and I quickly collect myself.

What in Oz am I supposed to say? That I'm suddenly sympathetic to her plight because she's just demonstrated that she does, in fact, have feelings?

Thankfully she doesn't expect me to say anything at all because she walks off to her own bed and crawls into it. She continues to sniffle for a while before eventually drifting off. I lie in bed for a while, wondering about her sudden transformation of character, but decide to just leave it alone.

The next morning, I wake up to find that Galinda is not in the dorm. Curious, because I only heard five clock chimes in the distance. I wonder what in Oz she could possibly be doing so early.

My nose is still congested and I'm still coughing a little, but it isn't so bad that I can't go back to lessons. I get ready and decide on an early breakfast, during which I can review some notes. They are old notes from last week, and at some point I'll have to get some new ones off Cerys, but at least they will pass the time until a more socially acceptable hour of day.

I do not expect to run into Galinda. Nor do I expect her to start bawling into my chest.

'What in Oz?' I exclaim. She throws her arms around me and I can feel the tears seeping through my blouse.

'I can't do it anymore!' she weeps, and I am compelled to do something about it. No matter how much I despise her, something is eating away at her, and I cannot ignore it.

'Is this about Fiyero?' I ask, and she shakes her head.

'No…well, sort of but not really,' she chokes.

I put an arm around her shoulder and turn around to go back to the dorm. She clings onto me like a small child, her nails digging into my arms as though I will otherwise disappear. She appears to be trying to control her crying, but is failing miserably. Her breaths come out in ragged puffs and occasionally she removes one hand to wipe the tears from her face.

As soon as we are back in the dorm, she slams the door and locks it.

She takes off towards her bed and flings herself onto it, sobbing into the pillow. They are not the superficial sobs of a girl who didn't get her way, but real, heavy, heartbroken sobs of someone in distress. She doesn't even comment about the state of her make-up; she just cries until eventually it's all out of her system and the sobbing dies down.

It's a while before she speaks. I'm probably late for lessons, but suddenly this seems more important.

'It's my fault,' she finally says. The words are small, like she didn't want me to hear them. It wouldn't surprise me if she is scared to admit a wrongdoing. She never has been good at being truthful. 'My fault,' she repeats.

'What is?'

'It was only supposed to be one time.'

'What was?'

She pauses.

'Meddik.'

Oh.

'I'm not the only one you know. Lots of girls do it. Pfannee and Shenshen…they've both done it too. Here and there, just to help things along a bit.' She sniffs, gets up and goes into the bathroom to blow her nose. She comes back out and stands in front of me. 'It went too far,' she continues. 'Much too far – and yet I couldn't seem to stop myself. For a while it really worked in my favour. But then…' She takes a deep breath. 'He turned it all around, Miss Elphaba! All of a sudden it was no longer me taking advantage of him, but him taking advantage of _me!'_

She breaks down again, and all I can do is stand there, horrified by what I am hearing. She wraps her arms around me and presses her face into my chest. I have no choice but to put an arm around her and stroke her hair, like how I did with Nessa sometimes when she was a child. She cries for a while, and then pulls back.

'He said – he said if I didn't do what he wanted then he would fail me!'

'The absolute bastard,' I seethe. 'Galinda, you have to report him!'

'I – I can't!' she cries. 'If I did, then I would have to tell them what I did, and then I'd just get kicked out anyway. And everyone would be so disappointed in me! I let them all down; I couldn't be good like I was supposed to. What would they say if they knew I did something so…so uncivilised?'

_It would be her fault,_ I think, but don't say anything.

I have already missed the start of class, so there is no point in going now. I sit on my bed, pondering everything that has occurred. Galinda doesn't seem inclined to go to class either: she remains on her side of the dorm, only moving around occasionally, and sniffling. Unlike her, I will not be able to sit around and do nothing about it. It doesn't matter that Galinda made some bad decisions. Her deceitfulness is forgivable in the light of her confession. Meddik's actions, on the other hand, are completely unforgivable.

The thought of him doing – _that_ – to Galinda makes my palms tingle. Damn it. Whatever respite I had from my magic has ended. I take a deep breath and try to clear my thoughts, but the idea of Meddik getting away with something so horrific fills me with repulsion. I cannot stay here. I have to take action.

I slip out of the dorm and hurry as fast as I can to the Literature classroom, only to find it empty. He must not have a class at the moment, which means I have no hope of knowing where he might be. I will have to wait until my next Literature class and make my move then. With a frustrated growl I turn and head back to my dorm. I have about twenty minutes until my next class, which happens to be Life Sciences.

Galinda is silent as ever as I move around the dorm, gathering my belongings.

The clock chimes ten times.

'We have to go,' I say, as she hasn't moved in about ten minutes.

'I'm not going,' she mutters.

'Miss Galinda, you will get up right this instant and go to class. Whatever happened with Meddik is no excuse to neglect your education.'

'Go away.'

I give up and leave. I've had quite enough of her for one day and can feel the powerful magic rushing through my blood. Perhaps Life Science will ease my grated nerves. However, as I approach the Life Science classroom, I hear a babble of stressed students talking heatedly. Wondering what is going on, I sit down and focus on the individual strands of conversation.

Within the babble I hear continuous mentions of Doctor Dillamond, which has me worried. Some of the students are going on about the Animal bans; others are going on about some other guy called Doctor Nikkidik. I don't know who he is; all I know is that soon five minutes have passed, and then ten, and still, Dillamond hasn't showed up for class.

Eventually, I slam my hand on the table. It cracks beneath my palm, and I rise from my seat, shaking. The action shocks the students, and their voices fall into silence.

'What in Oz is going on with Doctor Dillamond?' I demand.

'Fabala!' Nessa admonishes.

'Where is he?'

'He's gone,' someone pipes up. 'He's been replaced by Doctor Nikkidik. The Wizard has passed some new Animal bans about teaching…'

I am up out of my seat in a heartbeat. I storm past the students, out of the classroom and back to Crage Hall. This cannot be happening. Dillamond was supposed to prove the link between humans and Animals. There is no way he can be gone, not now, not when he was so close…

'Where is he?' I demand as I burst into Morrible's office.

'Miss Elphaba, I cannot abide your rudeness!'

_'__Where is Doctor Dillamond?' _

'Doctor Dillamond is no longer under the employment of the university…'

'You cannot get rid of him! It's outrageous! He's the best professor in the entire university, you have to bring him back!'

Morrible sighs. There is heaviness about her. She speaks her next words in a low, sombre tone, sending chills through my spine.

'There is no coming back.'

She must only mean to the university, I tell myself, but fear creeps into the back of my mind. My face flushes and my breath hitches in my throat. She cannot be saying what I think she is. In a trembling tone, I stammer 'W – what?' and my hoarse voice peters into thin air.

Then, Morrible responds with devastating words, and my last remaining hope is shattered.

'Doctor Dillamond is dead.'

* * *

**A/N: *runs and hides***


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: You guys...your imaginations are crazy. Seriously - crazy. Thanks for all your extremely creative reviews. :)**

* * *

Chapter 12

The hand of grief grips my chest and squeezes it so tightly that I am certain my body will crumble into nothing. My blood is on fire and my mind is in a blurry haze as I try to comprehend the news.

I can feel the air rapidly heating up around me and blowing into a fast wind, scattering objects from their rightful places on shelves and desks and tossing them around in a whirlwind. Things smash against walls, the ceiling, the floor, and Morrible staggers around, yelping when she is whacked by her own personal possessions.

A torrent of thoughts floods my mind, and with them come outbursts of chaos.

_I will never see Doctor Dillamond again._

The walls crack and start to crumble. My feet rise from the floor and into the air, and I soar through a hole in the ceiling and into the sky. Below me, I hear screams and cries as more and more of Crage Hall starts to come down.

_He was my first friend, my only friend._

My hands reach into the air, seizing my surroundings with magic and tugging them upwards. They will pay, all of them, for all the injustice they have ever caused, for being so unlawful to those who are different. Their ignorant attitudes allowed the Wizard to carry out his plans and force the Animals into segregation. They don't deserve it, none of them do; Doctor Dillamond certainly didn't. He was more intelligent than most humans and should have been recognised for it, not –

I can scarcely think the word 'murdered'. I am certain that that is what it is. He must have come close to proving his research, and someone decided that he had to be silenced. Morrible, the bitch. I bet it was her. She certainly loves to bully those who are different. She spent all term refusing to acknowledge me, even when I desperately needed her help.

_Just because I am blind, just because I am green!_

I let out a long, loud screech and throw my hands down. The magic bullets into the floor with a humongous boom, splitting the ground and throwing up a haze of gravel and sand. I land back on the floor, my shoes sinking into rubble. I'm quickly losing sense of my orientation but it doesn't matter: I step forward through the rubble, blood still boiling, and tears spilling from my eyelids and down my cheeks.

Students are crying, screaming, wailing - I ignore them; they deserve it for the way they've treated me. From the minute I stepped into the university – rather, from the minute I was born into my disaster of a life – I was cast aside for my mere existence.

_Not one chance! Not one!_

I wipe my eyes but the tears won't stop coming. Long, fluid streams of magic wrap me in a nest and jet outwards, shielding me from the cruel outside world. No one can touch me now. They can cry and scream, but they cannot lay a finger on me.

'Miss Elphaba, what in Oz are you doing?!'

The voice is Galinda's. I shake my head and keep walking, hearing her start to move behind me, knowing that my magic safeguard will keep her away. Her presence reminds me of Meddik and what he did to her, and I speed up, knowing that I have to find him and make him pay for his actions. I tune into the surrounding noises, trying to find his voice, but the university is massive and he could be anywhere in any of the buildings. Well then, I'll just make my way through all of them, one by one, until I find him. I stretch my arms out and let magic charge through them and outwards in a circle. It rockets through everything in its path, tearing through buildings, eliciting screams and shrieks from the people.

Galinda, for some unknown reason, is still following me. She keeps calling my name and whining, and I wish she would shut up and go anywhere that isn't here. I have no idea why in Oz she wants to be anywhere near me. She hates me as much as the rest of them – more, even.

'Miss Elphaba, you have to stop this, it isn't the way…'

But she doesn't understand. It is the only way.

I cast the magic backwards and wince as I hear her shriek and stumble over. The shard of pity I feel for her is overshadowed by the notion that she has acted no better than any of the others. The deceitful, shallow brat, using unfair methods to get what she wanted. The stupid girl had already been given everything her entire life, and yet as small a thing as not getting into the sorcery seminar was the end of the world.

_Try putting in the effort and yielding nothing in return! _I think viciously, remembering how desperately I worked in the effort to get Morrible to teach me. I have no sight and yet I still managed to get straight A's and top the year, but of course that didn't matter because Horrible Morrible took one look at me and couldn't see past my skin or my disability. _But never mind, because she will see me now, they all will!_

The floor rumbles beneath my feet, pulsing as it is blasted with waves of power. Everyone will suffer the consequences; everyone except me. Inside of my magical bubble, I am invincible. They cannot bring me down anymore, only watch as I rise and prove myself better. My veins are ablaze with the rush of freedom of not holding back. No more restraint. No more worry. No more people trying to stamp me down. Now it is my turn to stamp on them.

Inside of my shield I begin to float over the destroyed ground.

_'__Miss Elphaba!'_

Why is the brat still here, I wonder? She ought to be out of the way by now, but somehow, in those ridiculous heels of hers, she has managed to keep up with me.

_'__Are you completely insane? Get down here at once you stupid, green bean!'_

'No!' I yell, and send some more magic in her direction, feeling satisfied when I hear a piercing shriek from down below. 'He's dead, Galinda! _Dead!_'

'Well yes, but – you can't tear down buildings just because you feel like it!'

_'__You don't get to tell me what I can and cannot do!_ I can no longer abide the injustice within this place! It's horrendible! _HORRENDIBLE!'_

My voice gets lost in a cold, turbulent wind which tunnels through the air, whipping my loose hair around my face. I can feel myself flying forward. It is as though the magic has become my eyes, guiding me to where I need to go. I quickly lose sight of Galinda, and instead focus on the sound of flying debris. Then – finally – I hear it, the sound of Professor Meddik, barking orders at students, telling them to run.

_'__You!'_ I shriek, hurtling towards him. 'You hurt her, you bastard! You deserve to _die!'_

'Miss Elphaba!' he exclaims.

_'__I HATE YOU!'_

I crash onto the ground and slam my hands downwards. There is a sickening crack as the floor fissures and moves apart. Meddik screams and staggers around, trying to remain upright, but loses his balance and falls through the opening with a loud shriek. As his voice dies away, I cackle loudly in triumph.

Then, I feel a light pitter patter, and halt in my tracks, confused. This wasn't done by me. What in Oz is going on? The pitter patter turns into a horrendous downpour, drenching me from head to toe. I don't understand. Why isn't my shield protecting me from this?

The answer hits me in a wave of horror. _Morrible. _Oh shit. I turn in a random direction and run. If there's one thing I cannot best it is Morrible's magic.

As quickly as the downpour started, something zaps my body, and suddenly I am on fire, and I scream in agony. My back arches and my hands fall, limp, against my sides. My body is paralysed and I can do nothing but howl in agony until the power finally dies away and I collapse onto the floor.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

'Miss Elphaba! _Miss Elphaba!'_

Galinda's voice jolts me awake. I stumble onto my feet, taking a few ragged breaths.

'Miss Galinda,' I gasp.

'I'm over here.'

I lurch in the direction of her voice with an arm out in front of me. My fingers brush her shoulder and I find myself gripping onto her hard. My whole body hurts and my head is spinning. Sweet Oz, it's real, it really happened…

'We have to go, come on,' I mutter and drag her behind me as I begin to move. 'We have to get out of here, Galinda, the damage, it's too much…'

'Miss Elphaba, _stop!'_ she interrupts.

'No, we have to go…'

_'__Listen to me!'_

My words tail off, but I'm confused. Why isn't she coming with me? Why isn't she running? We're supposed to be getting out of here or else there's bound to be trouble.

'There is nowhere to go,' Galinda chokes.

'What do you mean?'

She breathes one ragged breath and my stomach sinks with dread.

'The entire university was destroyed.'

A sob bursts from my throat and I collapse onto my knees. Sweet, sweet Oz, what have I done? My shoulders shake with distraught and terror. This is it. It has gone too far. There is no hope of redeeming myself now.

The thought of Doctor Dillamond enters my head. He would be so ashamed. I let him down. He was my only friend and I dishonoured his memory by causing destruction.

What in Oz was I thinking?

Eventually, I run out of tears.

'How bad?' I whisper. I'm not sure that I want to know.

'Um…most of the buildings came down,' Galinda says careful. 'Th – they fell on top of a lot of people. Like, a lot. I – I don't know, Miss Elphaba, there are so many injured people…' She breaks off as she begins to cry. 'They could _die!'_ she exclaims, and my blood runs cold.

For a while I just sit there. I cannot do anything else because I am numb all over.

'Why are you here?' I ask flatly.

'Because, well…I don't know! You helped when I was upset, I suppose…'

'Your reasoning is weak and pathetic. I did one thing for you and you decide to follow me around like a lost puppy? What happened to all of your friends?'

'You don't understand! Ever since Fiyero and I broke up, it's been hell! I was feeling sad and lonely and I couldn't bear to face any of them! They're so vicious, you have no idea! And then you came and you listened to me about Meddik and you took my side even though I was absolutely horrendible…'

I cannot believe she is pouring her heart out in the middle of all this destruction. Only Galinda could pile the sap on at a time like this.

'Sweet Oz, we have to find Fiyero!' Galinda exclaims. 'Come on, let's go! He could be anywhere! He could be – d – dead – or something!'

She grabs my hand and leads me around, and together we wander through the debris. Galinda calls out Fiyero's name; I walk in silence, feeling everyone else's eyes watching me. Occasionally someone gasps and runs in the other direction, or cries out horrific insults and accusations. I don't respond. The accusations are mine to take; they are punishment for what I did.

'Miss Elphaba, what if he's dead?' Galinda says in a scared whisper.

'He's not,' I respond, even though I don't know. For all I know, he could be, and it would be at my hand.

'But what if he is…?'

'Will you shut up?!'

Her worrying is planting horrible thoughts into my head. I have a vivid picture of finding Fiyero's dead body lumped over a pile of concrete, blood dripping everywhere, corpse wrecked by the massive amounts of debris. He isn't my friend, but he showed me a courtesy beyond what most people did the day he visited me in hospital. If he died at my hand…

'Galinda!'

Oh. Thank. Oz.

_'__Fifiiiiii!'_

Galinda lets go of my hand and hurries to Fiyero. She embraces him and sobs loudly.

'I'm so glad you're okay, Glin,' says Fiyero. Then he spots me. 'Miss Elphaba…'

An awkward silence hangs between us. He knows as well as anyone that I am the cause of this. I'm not sure what to do. I should leave both of them together, but where would I go with no means of orienting myself? With no other option, I stand still and wait.

'You lost control,' Fiyero says. It isn't so much a question. He is wrong, at least partly. In a twisted way I was actually in control, but blinded with rage; but I cannot bring myself to admit it so I nod and don't bother to correct him.

'I'm…'

I almost said 'I'm sorry', but how can I apologise now? This deed is too big to be taken back by simple words.

People are picking themselves up, helping each other, comforting each other. Debris is being moved around, lifted, tossed aside and stepped on. There are cries for assistance, tears of panic, and howls of grief.

Galinda takes my hand and the three of us walk, not that there's anywhere to go. They have friends to find, but I –

It hits me in a wave of horror. I was too caught up in myself to give it a second thought, but now I feel like a horrible, selfish person. How could I not remember? How could I forget about my own sister?

'Nessa,' I gasp. 'Where's Nessa? And Nanny?'

'We'll find them,' Galinda says weakly. 'You should have thought of them before all this,' she adds, and that is all – for the rest of the time, we stay silent. I ponder Galinda's words, knowing she is right, but on reflection, the thought of Doctor Dillamond's death was so potent that all rationality flew out of the window.

I don't regret Meddik's death. I don't. He deserved it.

Then, Galinda starts screaming and I am paralysed with fear. Fiyero is immediately by her side, talking to her, trying to calm her down. She is trying to articulate something but the words come out in a hysterical mess. As I listen I hear words like 'Nessa', 'limp' and 'not moving', and my own voice emits a horrible noise.

'What happened? _What happened to Nessa?'_

Fiyero is still talking to Galinda. My hands are shaking and my eyes start streaming. I need an answer right now – it cannot wait. I grab onto the back of Fiyero's shirt and tug him towards me.

_'__What happened to my sister?!'_

'She's hurt!' says Fiyero. 'She's lying there limp and bleeding and not moving, and it's all because of you, Miss Elphaba. _You_ did this! And now we have to help her.'

He removes himself from my grasp, and once again I cannot move. I am frozen inside a tornado of horrified thoughts, and press my hands against my ears to block them out, trying to rid myself of the agonising uncertainty of Nessarose's survival. Galinda and Fiyero are doing something to help her, but I have no idea what. Thanks to my disability I can only stand there while they are the ones who patch up the consequences of my mess.

A hand takes my arm.

'Nanny's dead,' Galinda's teary voice whispers, and I crumble. My knees slam into the wrecked ground beneath me and I roll over sideways in pain. My hands clutch onto anything solid they can find.

I hated the old bat. She was old and annoying and well on her way to her deathbed, but she took care of me and Nessa. And now she's gone.

Gone, because of me.

The howls are uncontrollable. They come from the centre of my gut and pour out in long, devastated wails.

No one comforts me, because no one wants to. Because I don't deserve it. Not even Galinda says anything – she just continues helping Fiyero to take care of Nessa – what I should be doing, what I should have done in the first place.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I have run out of time.

I know this because I can hear Morrible's voice coming in our direction. It takes me a few seconds to move: I spend them agonising over leaving Nessa. However, there's nothing useful I can do for her so I reluctantly decide that it's time to make my escape.

With my heart aching for my sister, I run in the opposite direction of Morrible. Run is a bit of an exaggeration – my limbs hurt too much for that, and I have to step over mounds of debris, so I stumble as fast as I am able, keeping one hand out in front of me, silently hoping that I don't accidentally step on someone who might be trapped beneath the ruin.

I still have a little magic left, just enough to make my palms tingle. It seems to be calling me to use it. At first I'm not sure what for, but when I stumble and my hand grabs something smooth and wooden, the magic leaps through my fingers and into the object.

Before I know it, I am no longer stumbling, but soaring. I wrap both hands onto the wooden thing and push myself on top of it. The object is long and thin. As my hands move down it, I feel it branch out into small strands. A broom. What an odd thing to fly on. The broom appears to have its own will, or at least the will of the magic. It flies into Shiz's surrounding forest and carries me far, far away from the university. As the sound of chaos dies out, I feel relief in my chest. It's easier to not hear them scream, to not face their consequences.

For a while, there is only the gentle swish of trees and the noises of a few animals. What am I to do now that I have left Shiz? Father will never take me back, and the university – well, what remains of it – is bound to expel me. There is nothing left for me. I have no future.

In a way, it's freeing. The world is my oyster now.

There is one thing. One thing left which gives me a sense of purpose. I will go to the Emerald City and meet the Wizard. I will demand that he changes the Animal laws. I will never let another Animal suffer in the same way as Doctor Dillamond. I will use my magic if I have to. The Wizard will have no choice but to listen to me.

The broom seems to heed my intent, and speeds up.

While I fly, I slip into a daydream. I imagine a life in which none of this had happened, in which the Animals were as free as they had once been many years ago. They live in harmony with humans and are treated as equals, not monsters which need to be tamed. There are Animal professors at the universities; Animal doctors in the hospitals; Animal cubs going to school with the human Ozian citizens. I am not blind, and my world is filled with bright colours. Everyone has different skin, whether it is coloured ordinary white and brown, or unique green, purple and yellow.

Wouldn't that be the nice life?

It's funny; I always wanted to go to the Emerald City, ever since I was a little girl and found out that it was green, just like me. I imagined that I would finally go to some place where I fitted in, where everything was the same colour, where I didn't stand out as a freak of nature. Now I am finally going, but not to have a nice life. I only have a small window of opportunity before news catches up to the Emerald City and they realise what a dangerous person I am. I will see the Wizard, make my statement and then be off. I will have to find someplace to hide, somewhere no one will ever find me. It will be better for both me and them. Perhaps this way I'll manage to stop myself from hurting them with my power.

A short while later, my body is too tired and sore to keep going. The broom gently slows to a stop and I jump down onto the ground, making a stiff landing. I take the broom in one hand and lean on it for support. I extend my free hand and find a tree. From the temperature of the air, and the fact that my mind does not want to stay awake, I gauge that it is probably night time. In an instinctive move, I put down the broom and grab a low-ish branch. I hoist myself up, so that I am sitting in the branch, wincing as I position myself. I won't be able to go any higher – it's too painful – so I settle down and lean my head into the tree trunk.

Sleep claims me all too quickly.

By the next morning, much of my fight has gone. I am tempted to just sit here and not move all day. If only I had a braille book I would be set for a peaceful day of reading. As it is, all I have is my thoughts, and not to mention, my stomach is growling with hunger. Reluctantly, I climb down from the branch and search around for the broom. It almost flies into my hand.

If the broom was able to heed my intent yesterday, perhaps it will find me food. Once again, it takes off, carrying me on top of it, moving swiftly between the trees. An hour or so later I wind up at a lake, and hungrily drink the water. I have no way of knowing if it's safe to drink, but it doesn't taste bad and I'm too thirsty to care. Then, I take off again.

Sometime later the broom slows to a halt again. I step off, feeling myself sway slightly with dizziness. It must have been hours since I last ate. In the distance I can hear the sound of civilisation – clattering wheels, footsteps and conversation – and realise I must be near a town or city. My stomach flips. Perhaps I can get food here, although I don't have any money. That leaves me with two options: Steal or beg. It will have to be the first option. No one will willingly give food to a blind, green wreck.

Then again, stealing might give me problems too. How in Oz am I supposed to steal anything if I can't see? My initial excitement of finding a town quickly wears off. I am just as stuck as I was out there in the forest.

I decide just to head into the town and hope for the best. As I walk, I expect to hear the usual whispers from the public about their hatred of my verdigris, but find myself surprised as I hear nothing of the sort whatsoever.

In fact, the people all seem to be ignoring me. It's like I'm not green at all.

'Excuse me, Miss, are yer alright there, lass? Yer look a wee bit lost,' says a voice with a strange accent. My eyebrows rise in shock. Why is trying to help me? Why isn't he condemning me? Deciding that I have nothing to lose, I go with it. Any help I can get is surely a good thing.

'Forgive me, but I am blind and a long way from home. Can you please tell me where I am?'

'Why, yer in the Emerald City, Miss!' the man exclaims. 'Lookin' fine as well, young lady, if a little travel-worn. Tell yer what, let me buy you lunch or something. This place's got some fine dining, it does!'

I cannot believe my stroke of luck. No wonder no one's condemning me – if the Emerald City is anything like what I've heard, I blend right in. The man takes my arm and leads me down a pavement and into a restaurant. I suddenly feel deceitful. In all due course, word will reach the Emerald City about how dangerous I am, and the man will realise I have conned him into buying me food, but for now, I have no choice: it's this, or starve.

It must be obvious how hungry I am because I shovel the food down as quickly as possible, giving little regard to the taste or even what it is. Some form of fish, I think, and vegetables, but the specifics are lost on me.

'So what's yer name, lass?' the man asks.

'Elphaba,' I respond. I choose not to give out my surname in case he makes the connection to my status.

'M'name's Maarkh. I'm just a wanderin' traveller, here to see the great _Wizomania._ Yer look like a wanderer yerself, Miss Elphaba. What brings you 'ere then?'

'Um…'

The Wizard. The Animals. I cannot tell him these things – he is blinded by the Wizard's great illusions; he would never believe me.

'I just – wanted to see the city,' I stammer.

'Ay, it's quite the experience,' Maark says excitedly. 'Wonderful place, the city. So colourful and fun. Ah, if yer could see it, lass, yer would be spellbound, yer would…'

He rambles on, and I sit in silence, envious of his ideals. While he talks, I consider my next move.

'Could you show me to the Emerald Palace?' I ask, as he pays the bill at the end of the meal. The forced politeness makes me feel sick. I have always said that I would never become like those rich society girls, yet here I am feigning manners in order to get myself a favour.

'Of course!' Maarkh exclaims. 'Tis a wond'rous sight indeed! Oh – I do beg yer pardon, being blind an' all…'

'That's alright,' I mutter. In reality, I couldn't care less about seeing the sparkling emeralds. The man takes my arm and leads me out of the café and into the city.

'Well let me tell yer, then, what it's like. It's a great, massive palace with loads of tall turrets stickin' out everywhere, all green, of course and sparklin' and dazzlin' on the eyes…'

I don't understand such talk, so I tune out.

I wish I was on the run, because the calm, slow paced walking allows me too much time to wallow in my thoughts. Nessa fills my mind, making me feel sick, scared and wretched. How is she doing? Did she survive what I did at Shiz? Is she okay? Is she recovering?

Or is she dead?

And what of the rest of the student body? How many of them survived? How many families have lost their sons and daughters? How many lives have been devastated because of my reckless behaviour?

_At least Fiyero and Galinda are okay,_ I tell myself, but the thought doesn't help much.

'There it is, in the distance,' Maarkh says, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Now I can finally get rid of the nuisance. 'A beautiful sight indeed, if only you knew…anyhow, let's get yer goin'.

He takes my arm again and we continue on, until he proclaims that we are right in front of the palace gates.

'Do yer want me to stay with ya, lass?'

'No, thank you. I can take it from here.'

Then, finally, Maarkh is gone, and I breathe a heavy sigh of relief. I take a few seconds to revel in the quiet. Then, I open my mouth and speak.

'Is anyone there?'

'At your service!' says a voice. He must be a guard. I take a step forward and straighten my shoulders.

'I would like to request a meeting with the Wizard, please.'

'Well not just anyone can see the Wizard! He is a busy, busy man as I'm sure you must know. Now get along, lady, you're not wanted here.'

I sigh. Of course it wasn't going to be that simple, but I don't turn around and leave. Instead, I do something which makes my own stomach twist in disgust.

'Do you not know who I am?' I say, in as demanding a tone as I can muster. I suddenly sound a lot like Galinda, and feel heat rising to my cheeks. For one thing, I don't look anything like a high society lady: I'm still wearing the same clothes from back at Shiz. They must be an absolute wreck by now. I can imagine what Galinda would say, that any girl who wandered around in dirty rags carrying a broomstick could not possibly be a lady of social status.

I almost falter, aware of how ridiculous I must sound, but I cannot afford to lose this chance so I quickly compose myself and continue. 'My name is Elphaba, Thropp Third Descending. I am in line to be the next Eminent of Munchkinland.'

It is a lie. That will be Nessa, not me – if she made it, that is. It turns out that my insecurity was unfounded as the guard is stuttering his apologies and waving me inside. He guides me into the palace and down what seems like endless numbers of corridors. I'm sure any sighted person would be staring around in wonder of the 'sparkling' and 'dazzling' effects, but I will never know what those words mean.

I don't care. I didn't come here to look around.

The guard tells me to wait and seats me on a plush, soft sofa. My hands grip the edge of the seat. The frame is made of wood, and my fingers dig into soft fabric. The minutes tick by. I try to force away thoughts of the destruction I have caused, in favour of the argument I am going to present, but somehow I cannot drive away the idea of Nessa possibly dying. My stomach clenches horribly, and I wonder if I will throw up. I swallow. This must be the one time and place where I cannot afford to do such a thing.

'The Wizard will see you now,' says the guard, and I rise to my feet, anticipation boiling in my stomach.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: 2 chapters left, guys. *retreats back into hiding spot***

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Chapter 15

I squash down a wave of nausea and take the guard's arm. He leads me down yet more corridors. How big is this place, I wonder? How many people does it require to look after? There must be loads of servants and workers around here, all of them employed by a single man, the Wizard…

Before I know it, I am thrust into a chamber and a door is slammed behind me, the sound echoing around a large space. I realise the guard is gone. It is just me now.

The echoe dies into nothing.

Then, out of the silence comes a humongous din which makes me jump out of my skin – objects clang and whirr, wheels spin, and a booming voice cries out words:

_'__WHOOOO AREEEE YOUUU?!'_

My throat hitches and I am short of breath. I open my mouth to try and speak, but for several long seconds, nothing comes out. Then, reality returns and I gasp hastily.

'My name is Elphaba, Thropp Third Descending!' I call out. 'I am here to talk to you about the Animal Bans!'

The whirs and clangs slow to a halt and I breathe in relief.

'Thropp?!' squeaks a voice. 'Give me one minute!' He sounds thoroughly unimpressive compared to the din he was making. I wonder what all that was about. He steps out from wherever he was and moves towards me. 'Miss Thropp. What may I do for you?'

'Your Ozness, the Animals are suffering. You need to help them, the laws are hurting them! You need to undo the Bans and give them their rights back!'

My voice echoes into nothing. I wait anxiously for his response, wondering what goes through that Wizard brain of his. There must be a lot of things on the mind of the man who is running the country. For a second I feel guilty for taking up his time. To him I must be a strange, green girl staging a one-man protest. But I cannot desist. He has to see that what's happening to the Animals is wrong.

'Would you care for a cup of tea?' he asks.

I am flabbergasted.

_'__Tea?_ There is no time for tea when the Animals…'

'Hush,' he interrupts. 'I mean, so that we may speak properly about your problem.'

Oh. This is another one of those social things. If I had been Galinda, I might have seen it sooner. Before he can change his mind, I nod and agree. It looks as though I'm going to have to play the politics game in order to get what I want.

He takes me by the shoulder and leads me out of the chamber, to somewhere else. Being escorted by such a powerful man leaves me feeling overwhelmed. As we walk, I find that I do not know what to say. If I can get through to him, I will have done something to have a real, genuine effect on Oz.

We enter another room and he sits me down. The tea is brought in and poured by a servant.

I am practically hanging off the edge of my seat.

'So – the Animals,' I begin.

'Yes – well,' says the Wizard. He clears his throat. 'Tell me about yourself, Miss Thropp. From where have you travelled?'

'Doesn't matter,' I snap. 'The Animals are in danger and…'

'Hush,' the Wizard repeats. 'Relax. There is no use in making haste with these things.'

'But…'

'It's not something that can be solved overnight. Have some tea.'

I cannot help a loud huff. As long as we are making pleasantries, the Animals are continuing to suffer. I quickly remind myself that this is a political game, but the whole thing seems ridiculous when we ought to just get straight to the point. I pick up the cup and sip. It actually tastes pretty good, so I drink a little more and set the cup down. Perhaps if I just do what he says, we can finally get the ball rolling.

'I came here from Shiz, but was born in Munchkinland,' I offer. It seems completely farfetched compared to the truth, but what else could I possibly say? 'I destroyed Shiz University and fled for the Emerald City in order to escape from punishment and fulfil my own agenda'?

'Yes, you must be quite bright in order to get into Shiz,' the Wizard muses.

Perhaps the tea was a good thing, because I feel more relaxed than I did before. Maybe the Wizard was right, and we can take our time with this. After all, it's as he said – the Animals won't be rescued overnight. Plus, it's easier than thinking of all the upcoming devastation when news of what I did at Shiz reaches the Emerald City.

'I am top of the year,' I blurt. I'm not sure why. To impress him? To make myself credible? Suddenly I feel foolish. I'm not as good at this as Galinda would be. She would use her charm and sociability to sweeten the Wizard onto her side in a heartbeat.

'Impressive,' is all the Wizard says.

He sounds completely disinterested. In the back of my mind I feel mad, and yet I cannot seem to bring myself to say something. _The Animals,_ I remind myself – _Talk to him about the Animals!_ – And yet, my lips won't form the words. Instead I sit sleepily in my seat, my mind in a haze. What was the urgency? It seems so unimportant now...

As my fingers close around the cup of tea again, a horrible realisation dawns on me. I let go, but it is too late. The drug has already taken effect. All I can do is sit and gape at the Wizard as I start to feel dizzy. As the world spins, I hear a soft uttering from the Wizard's lips.

'I'm sorry. You're just too powerful, and I cannot allow you to stop me.'

That is all.

* * *

The floor is cold, hard and filthy. The air is draughty.

Where am I? What in Oz happened to me? I sit up, feeling my head spin in the process, and something clangs against the ground. My limbs are heavy. There is something clamped around them. I raise my arm, and let it drop heavily to my side. Shackles.

The Wizard did this to me.

'No,' I gasp. 'The Animals!'

I try to scramble to my feet, but cannot lift myself properly. The chains around my arms and legs are too heavy. I settle for a lopsided sitting position, my heart racing. I need my magic now, more than ever. I need it to help me get out of here.

But it won't come.

Why won't it come?

Footsteps approach. Slow and heavy and familiar.

'You left me with little choice.'

The voice, also familiar.

'Madame Morrible,' I seethe.

'Yes indeed. No doubt you are surprised to see me.'

'What are you doing here?' I demand.

'Stopping you from doing something foolish,' says Morrible. 'See, when your power resisted that binding spell I realised that it would take something far more drastic to keep you out of the way.'

'Out of the way? Of what?'

'Tut tut, you're usually more perceptive than that,' Morrible sneers. 'Think about it, Miss Elphaba. What in Oz could I possibly be doing here?'

I instantly think of Dillamond, and how I thought Morrible was behind this. Suddenly, the answer hits me and I clutch my stomach, trying not to let it revolt.

'You're in this with the Wizard!' I gasp when I think I am no longer at risk of vomiting. 'You're helping him bring down the Animals!'

'Clever girl. And you, Miss Thropp, have an agenda which gets in the way of that. See, you are the one person who might have interfered with our plans. You had to be stopped, but with that wayward magic of yours, you were uncontrollable.

'You know, I almost had you.' She laughs haughtily. 'That night when you stormed from my office in a temper and so recklessly got yourself lost in the woods, I saw it as an opportunity to take you down once and for all. Unfortunately, your sister interfered and I had no choice but to rescue you.'

My mind goes back to that awful day in the woods, when I lost control of the magic. I thought that was the reason for the turn in the weather, but as I slowly recall the details, I realise something: The onset of the storm was not brought on by my magic, but someone else's…

_'__You did this! You tried to kill me!' _I shriek.

'Quiet!' Morrible screeches, but I am sobbing, my tears coming out thick and heavy and plopping onto the floor. My hands ball into fists, nails scraping the dirt on the ground, and my breath is short and ragged.

'Why,' I choke. I don't mean 'why did you try to kill me'. I already know the answer to that. I mean 'why was I born with this magic'.

'Let me tell you, I was quite shocked when I realised what you were,' says Morrible. 'After all, there is only one kind of magic which can resist a binding spell, but of course an amateur such as yourself would not know that. Such powerful magic is only possible when a child is born of both worlds – a fact which quite shocked me, all things considered…I thought your parents were both from Munchkinland.'

'They are,' I say, but the words are echoing in my head. A child of both worlds. The only other world I have heard of is the one where the Wizard supposedly came from, but both of my parents are from Munchkinland, like Morrible said. 'It's impossible.'

'Is it, though? There is no other explanation for such strong and dangerous magic.'

I think about my parents, certain that Morrible is wrong. I was born from Melena Thropp, who's one of a long line of Thropp women. There's no way she is anything other than a Munchkin. That leaves Frex. He's also a Munchkinlander. It is simply not possible for me to be from anywhere else at all unless –

No. It cannot be true.

'Frex isn't my father,' I mutter.

I'm not sure how I feel. I've heard that when people have that kind of realisation, they go through grief, but all I feel is a combination of mild shock and relief. I do not share the same blood as the man I have struggled not to hate my entire life. We are not related. I came from someone else.

Someone who arrived in Oz from the other world.

'The Wizard feels bad, of course,' Morrible continues. 'He wanted to rescue you. He didn't want to destroy his own flesh and blood. But sadly, there is nothing anyone can do. If we release you, you will be far too dangerous.'

'It's not true,' I choke. 'It can't be true.'

'But it is. Fear not, though, for your time in Oz is coming to an end. Those shackles are bound with strong magic, the kind that can resist even _your_ magic. There is no way you're causing any magical bedlam for as long as you're in here. Very soon, you will be brought to justice for the whole of Oz to see. You'll be glad to know that word has reached the Emerald City about your chaotic behaviour – no doubt, they'll want to witness your death.'

My stomach sinks in horror. This cannot be happening. This isn't how it was supposed to work. I was supposed to escape and make my way somewhere far away where I wouldn't get caught. I was supposed to survive.

'You can't…' I begin, and then stop. I almost said 'You can't do this to me.' But she can. And she will.

And there is nothing I can do about it.

She lets out another laugh, and then walks away, her heavy footsteps clomping against the ground. The door crashes closed behind her. I collapse onto the floor and curl up into a tight ball, sobbing my heart out.

The end is coming, and this time, it's for real.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I think I might have confused you in my last A/N. I meant 2 chapters as of the A/N, not as of the end of the last chapter. Therefore, this is the last chapter. Sorry if anyone was confused.**

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Chapter 16

Today, I am going to die. I am going to be humiliated in front of the whole of Oz, and then I will be without consciousness forever.

I will never live again: I will never wake up in the morning; read a braille book; eat a meal; sleep. I simply will not be there. I won't exist.

Is that a good thing?

All of it will stop – both the good, and the bad. My power will never hurt anyone again, but the Animals won't get the rights that they deserve. Morrible and the Wizard will get away with their horrendible actions, and the rest of Oz will lap it up and celebrate it. My name will be spat in disgust, and I will go down in history as that crazy green girl with the power that hurt so many.

No one will grieve me. No one loves me enough for that.

Shiz will be rebuilt over time, and life will continue on as normal. Fiyero and Galinda will get their degrees. So will Nessa, if she lived to tell the tale. She will suffer the humiliation of being related to me. People may pity her, or they may hate her for it. Whatever the case, the road will not be easy when she becomes Governor.

I hear the fateful noise of the door opening. Guards march in to bring me to my death. They lift me, chains and all, and drag me out of the room. My feet scuffle against the ground. I hang limply, knowing that there is no point in fighting back.

We reach the grave outdoors.

The knowledge of my crime hangs heavily in the air. There are mutters, whispers, shouts and cries. Words condemning me. Words telling me what I did. Words putting me to death.

'Kill the Witch,' is their message.

I was going to be a great sorceress. I was going to be hailed for my magic. Instead I am being hated for it.

I am shoved onto a pedestal, so the whole world can watch me suffer. I am dirty, broken and shackled, the very depiction of a criminal. The hands of the guards cling onto me, as though they're afraid I might try and run, but with the shackles still in place I don't know how that's supposed to be possible.

'Good citizens of Oz,' Morrible's voice booms. It rings through the area and the crowd falls silent.

For a few seconds all I can hear is the sound of a light breeze and birds chirping, and I envision one of my stories. I am not in shackles about to be executed. I am standing on the balcony of a castle for my coronation. The crowd doesn't loathe me, but loves me. I am not dressed in rags, but the richest, classiest dress in the whole of Oz.

It is the life that was never meant for me.

It might be Galinda one day. She will marry a rich Lord and stand on one of those grand balconies with the whole world at her feet. For all her shallowness, the people will continue to love her – but not me. The world never did love me, and never will.

'I bring before you this terrorist who has caused so much destruction to our land. Today, she will be put to her death and executed!'

The crowd cheers excitedly. I spend one exact second cursing their obliviousness before realising that, actually, they're not oblivious at all. The fact of my dangerous magic is the truth, and my death is wholly justified.

Morrible continues to speak, her horrid voice filled with venom. She harps on about the Shiz incident and my heart drowns in sorrow. I cannot block out her words. Her unforgiving, horrendous truths cut through me like razor-sharp blades, remind me of my wickedness.

'Two days ago, three hundred and forty-two people lost their lives,' Morrible reveals, and my jaw drops.

All those people are dead. Dead because of me.

'As well as that, many people were horrifically injured, including the Thropp Fourth Descending of Munchkinland, Nessarose, who tragically lies in a coma.'

_She's alive!_ The news causes my heart to race; however, the thought is not comforting because she could still die. I will never find out if she wakes up because I will be long dead by then. If she wakes, it will be to a deceased sister with a stigma attached to her name.

Morrible is saying these things to hurt me. That's okay. I deserve it.

The people are buzzing in disgust.

'Let this criminal be brought to justice!' Morrible booms to the people, and they cheer loudly in affirmation, sealing their approval, giving the 'go' signal for my execution.

I might deserve it, but that doesn't mean I want it. My hands tremble and my eyes leak frightened tears. As Morrible's footsteps approach, I scream and writhe in protest, and the hands of the guards immediately jump into action, pinning me onto the floor so that I cannot move.

'No! Please!' I have never begged in my life, but the words tumble out of my mouth. The guards move to one side and their hands release my body.

'Today you shall die,' says Morrible. She is towering over me and my fate is in her hands. I lie limply on the floor, knowing that justice is coming. All at once, my fight leaves my body. There is no use in empty pleas or cries for mercy. There is no mercy for the wicked, and that is what I am, a wicked witch who destroyed hundreds of lives. My execution is my justice, though it will not restore all that was lost by my hand. The people who died at Shiz will never get their lives back, but the rest of Oz will be reprieved from the fear of further destruction.

Morrible's magic courses swiftly through my body. I can do nothing but scream in agony as it yanks at my life force, rapidly draining it from my body until there is nothing left.

I hear wild cheers and applause as the people get their justice. Once upon a time, I might have tried to fight the inevitable ending, somehow break through the magical shackles and escape, but not now. As my lungs give out and I start to choke, I can almost embrace the end. The silence will be blissful compared to the hideousness of this world.

Let Morrible kill me. I will not protest.

THE END.

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**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed my story! I can't believe it's finished and fully posted. I hope you all don't hate me too much for how I ended it.**

**I do have more fics coming up. At the moment I am writing a multi-chapter AU fic about Elphie's water allergy. It doesn't have a title yet, and is in the early stages, but will be posted eventually. In the meantime, if I get any one-shot ideas, I'll be sure to post those as well.**

**Thanks again!**

**~heatqueen**


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